#yandere the avengers

[gulnarsultan]

Hi dear I hope you are well, can you please write Yandere Tony Stark x reader, Reader is Natasha Romanoff's younger sister, she is very beautiful, she was with her in the Red Room with her and then she was sent to Hydra and got magic powers, in Iron Man 2 when Natasha went to spy on Tony, Reader went with her to one of the parties he threw, he fell in love with her instantly and became obsessed with her and cared about nothing but getting her and making her his and his wife.

I love your dear Your page is literally my obsession to read 💗

Hello my dear. I love you too. 😍😘🥰❤ You make me blush. 🤭🤗❣ I hope you like it.

���Scenario《

You were called Little Romanoff, Princess and other nicknames. Natasha's precious little sister. Your life was more normal and stable now. In fact, you were still in therapy for your red room experience. And you were trying to learn to control your magical abilities. Natasha (rare moments) wanted you to be her companion on a mission. You prepared carefully for this invitation. In the evening, you went to the invitation area with Natasha's arm. Your beauty caused many men to gather around you, compliment you and flirt with you. After a while, Tony Stark came to you. Because he saw you from afar and noticed you. His heart stopped as soon as he saw you. No woman had ever made him feel like this. He danced and talked with you all night long. Your sister Natasha didn't like this at all. She decided to leave with you before the event was over. To be honest, you enjoyed talking to Tony. After you left the event, you found a bouquet of red roses, expensive chocolates and a jewelry set on your doorstep the next morning. And there was a message for Tony on a small piece of paper. He wanted to spend time with you. You took the gifts to your room and left them on your bed. Your cheeks turned red with embarrassment. When Natasha found out, she got really angry and had a meeting with Tony alone. Tony warned (threatened) her to stay away from you. But instead of stopping, Tony kept sending you gifts. He took you on dates and got your number. You two looked like young people who had just fallen in love. Natasha watched you two flirt with her eyebrows furrowed. Tony wasn't stupid enough to scare you or make you run away by telling you about his obsession. He would try to hide his obsession at least until you two got married and had kids. Tony is a hot and cunning man. What happens next depends on different scenarios.

[chaoticforever]

Thunderous Pursuits | Yandere Thor x Male! Reader

Summary: Let this be a lesson to Thor’s old friend. Love is a fragile thing, easily broken by jealous gods. Especially Thor.

A/n: Smut is present.

Another day of saving the world.

Thor plopped himself down in the booth as his teammates began to settle down beside him. The restaurant the Avengers went to for the evening was a lavish and elegant establishment in New York, with high ceilings, gold chandeliers, and soft, ambient lighting. The walls were painted a deep shade of red, and the booth was comfortable and spacious, with a single red rose adorning the center of the table.

Earlier that afternoon, the Avengers had saved Earth again from yet another alien invasion. To celebrate this victory, Tony decided to take his teammates to a five-star restaurant in the city since some of them hadn't been to one before. He had arranged a private booth in a secluded corner of the restaurant for them to eat.

The God of Thunder opened the menu and gazed through the different choices. Thor didn’t eat earthly food as much, but he was going to enjoy them this evening.

Soon, a waiter approached their booth. 

"Hello, my name is Y/n, and I will be your server tonight," a polite voice addressed. "Can I get y'all started on some drinks?" 

Thor paused when he heard the waiter introduce himself. That voice... he would know that anywhere. Slowly, he lifted his eyes from the menu, and his eyes locked with the person standing near the table.

And, sure enough, it was him.

Y/n L/n.

"Y/n!" Thor's lips curled into a big smile.

The waiter looked up from the pad in his hands when he heard his name called. A fond grin appeared on his face when he saw the individual who called out to him.

"Hi, Thor!" Y/n walked around the table and the God stood up to give him a brief hug before stepping back. "It's so great to see you again. It's been too long, and wow, you cut your hair! It looks amazing."

"Thank you, old friend," Thor boomed, as he took his seat again, his piercing blue eyes never leaving his old friend's form. "It has been so long. I never expected to find you here, a restaurant, of all places."

The other Avengers quietly observed the exchange. They were intrigued by Thor's familiarity with someone the team didn't recognize. After all, they knew of Thor's brief friendships with Darcy and his ex-girlfriend, Jane, but this one was a new face. As they watched the guys interact, it became clear that Thor and his friend had a history that went back a long way.

Steve spoke, "So, Y/n, how do you know Thor? It looks like you two go way back."

The waiter nodded. "We do go way back. Way back. I was once an Asgardian god."

The five Avengers exchanged surprised glances. Clearly, they had not expected such a revelation. But Thor, on the other hand, frowned at Y/n's choice of words.

"Y/n, what do you mean, you 'were once' an Asgardian God?" His tone was sharp with curiosity, and his eyes searched for answers in Y/n's e/c eyes. Why did Y/n voice that? Was he not a God anymore? 

The former Asgardian cleared his throat, a subtle signal that the topic wasn't one he wished to delve into at this moment. "That is a story for another day. But for now, what can I get you heroes to drink?"

Tony was the first one to speak up and he ordered a martini, shaken, not stirred. Steve opted for a Coca-Cola, while Clint chose a cocktail. Natasha requested a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, and Bruce kept it simple, ordering a glass of water. However, Thor remained silent, his gaze fixed on Y/n. His mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts known only to the man.

"Uh, Point Break, it’s your turn," Tony said.

Thor blinked twice, momentarily startled before clearing his throat and tearing his gaze away from Y/n. "Aye, my apologies. I will have... uh, what is that earthly drink you mortals enjoy so much?" He looked to Tony for guidance, who rolled his eyes.

"You mean beer? The billionaire supplied.

Thor nodded, turning his gaze back to Y/n. "Yes, I will have a human beer, please."

Y/n nodded and jotted down the orders with swift movements of his pencil. He turned to leave but paused, and asked if they were ready to order food or if they needed more time with the menu. As it turned out, everyone was ready to order.

The male server took their food orders, starting with Tony again, who ordered a steak with sides of mac and cheese and broccoli cheese casserole. Steve opted for a classic bacon cheeseburger and fries, while Clint chose a plate of pasta with garlic bread. Natasha ordered sushi with a side of chicken, and Bruce opted for a massive plate of ribs and mashed potatoes. Thor mirrored Bruce’s choice.

After writing down their food orders, Y/n left, heading to the kitchen and leaving the heroes to their conversation. Thor's eyes followed Y/n's retreating figure, his mind racing with numerous questions.

As the Avengers talked, Thor found it hard to focus. His mind kept wandering back to Y/n, his old friend who was now a waiter. He couldn't shake his curiosity about what happened to Y/n since they last saw each other and the implication that the man had given up his godhood.

"Thor," Natasha's voice cut through the haze of his thoughts. "It seems like you and Y/n have quite the history. Care to fill us in?" Her tone was inviting, leaving the decision to share entirely up to Thor.

"I've known Y/n since the dawn of time. He came to Asgard as a young adult and we were very close. We fought in battles and went on countless journeys. Though it seems I missed this part of his journey."

Clint, who was sitting across from Thor, arched a brow and gave him a knowing look. "Dude," Clint wiggled his eyebrows. "you have a crush on him, don't you?" It seems that nothing escaped Clint's gaze.

Natasha playfully nudged Clint, as Bruce shook his head. He muttered something about Clint being an idiot though a small chuckle did manage to escape his throat.

A slight pink hue tinted Thor's cheeks. "I certainly do not have a crush on him."

And that was true — Thor did not have a crush on Y/n. On the contrary, what he felt for his old friend ran deeper than a fleeting crush, even after all these years.

A little while later, Y/n returned with two more servers that had trays filled with food and drinks. They carefully placed everything on the table, ensuring that everyone received their ordered meals. "Guys, enjoy your meal, and feel free to flag me down if you need anything else," Y/n then left the Avengers to their meal.

They ate, and the conversation shifted to their recent battle and the close calls they had faced. Thor, once again, found his attention divided between the lively discussion and his silent observations of Y/n as the waiter efficiently moved between tables, tending to other people.

He needed to speak with him.

So, when the dinner concluded and Tony paid the bill, leaving a generous tip for Y/n's exceptional service, the group began to make their way out toward the waiting limo. However, Thor lingered behind, his eyes seeking out Y/n, who was clearing a table. Thor made his way over to him.

"Y/n," Thor’s voice was low and serious, causing Y/n to pause in his clearing and looked up at Thor, "a word if you please." 

Y/n straightened up and offered a smile. "Of course, Thor. What can I do for you?"

"I must know, old friend, everything that has happened in your life up until now."

Y/n's smile remained unwavering. "And I'll tell you everything you want to know tomorrow. Meet me in Central Park at twelve o'clock. You and I will catch up."

The thunderous God nodded, feeling satisfied with that arrangement as he placed a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Until tomorrow, my friend. I look forward to it."

As Y/n walked away with dishes in his hands, Thor's eyes trailed after him. Why was his friend working as a server in a human restaurant? What had happened to him in Asgard? And most importantly, why'd he say he 'was once' an Asgardian God? Thor had his suspicions about the last question, but he still needed to get the missing piece of the puzzle from Y/n.

The only plausible explanation for Y/n's situation was that Y/n must have been stripped of his powers and made mortal, much like Odin had done to him before.

But the question remained: why? There were only two ways for a god to lose their powers: either through transferring their consciousness into another mortal body or by having their powers forcibly taken away. Y/n still inhabited the same body for centuries, automatically ruling out the first option. This left Thor with the conclusion that someone must have taken his powers, and he hoped that his dad hadn't been involved in such an act.

Suddenly, the restaurant door opened, and Bruce's voice rang out. "Thor, come on! Tony said you have thirty seconds to get out here or he's telling the limo driver to pull off without you. Let's get moving."

With a playful roll of his eyes at Tony's impatience, Thor followed Bruce out of the restaurant and into the waiting limo.

The limo glided through the city streets on the way back to the Compound, and Thor's thoughts inevitably drifted to Y/n. He recalled the curve of his lips when he smiled, the way the black waiter's attire highlighted his handsome features, and Clint's accusation about having a crush.

Indeed, as Thor had voiced earlier, it was more than a crush. The love he felt for Y/n ran deeper than mere infatuation, and it had only bloomed stronger over time.

One thing's for sure: over the years, Y/n had been the object of Thor's late-night fantasies more times than he cared to admit, even during his semi-relationship with Jane. Y/n was the main reason he couldn't fully commit to her. The thought of having Y/n beneath him, moaning his name while begging for release, was a desire Thor had harbored for some time. 

In Thor's mind, he felt that this was an opportunity given to him. It was clear to Thor that their paths had crossed again for a reason — because they were meant to be together. Why else would they have reconnected now — when Y/n seemingly needed him? It was a sign from the gods. So, he would first speak to Y/n, and then the two could focus on their relationship.

Thor couldn’t wait until tomorrow. 

XXXXX XXXXX

The wait until the next day felt like an eternity for the God of Thunder. He was so ready to see Y/n once more and learn about everything that had transpired in his life recently. He knew that Y/n would be there on time; it was in their nature to honor commitments, no matter how tiny.

Finally, the clock struck twelve, and Thor found himself standing in Central Park. The sun shone brightly, its rays dancing through the leaves of the trees, casting dappled shade on the grass, and a nice breeze stirred in the air. As he ventured further into the park, his eyes spotted a familiar figure sitting at a bench beneath the sprawling branches of a big oak tree.

There, casually leaning back against the bench with one leg casually slung over the other, was Y/n. He looked utterly at ease, dressed in a simple white tee and faded jeans. The outfit accentuated his nice, broad shoulders, and Thor's eyes wandered appreciatively over Y/n’s body.

He looked good.

Real good.

Thor's footsteps quickened, his eagerness to reunite properly with his old friend unmistakable. He knows that he just saw him yesterday, but the short amount of time wasn't enough to satisfy his longing for his company. Y/n noticed Thor approaching and gave him a slight smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Hey, Y/n," Thor greeted, his voice warm and deep. He extended his hand, and Y/n took it, letting Thor pull him into a hug.

"It's good to see you, T-Man," Y/n replied, using the old nickname he had for Thor. Hearing it now made Thor's heart flutter, and he loved the way it rolled off his lips.

Settling onto the bench, Thor's curiosity got the better of him. He knew that Y/n held the answers to the many questions swirling in his mind. So, without further ado, he decided to dive straight into the heart of the matter, forgoing the human tendency to beat around the bush now.

"My dear comrade," Thor began, his eyes locked intensely on Y/n. "You have much to tell me, and I am eager to hear it. How is it that Y/n, son of Hera and Zeus, God of Time, finds himself here on Midgard, serving mortals as a waiter? The last I heard, you were a protector of this realm."

The former God clasped his hands in his lap but he maintained eye contact with Thor. It was always customary to look someone in the eyes when speaking.

"I was the protector of this realm," he confirmed, "But your father and I had our fair share of disagreements. He deemed me reckless and unworthy, and in a fit of anger, he stripped me of my powers and banished me here to Midgard. I've been living as a mortal for almost two years."

A frown marred Thor's handsome features as he listened to Y/n's words, his eyebrows knitting together in anger. Stripped of his powers and exiled here — it was a brutal punishment, one that stirred a protective instinct within the God of Thunder. He knew firsthand the pain of being stripped of one's powers. The idea of Y/n, the mighty God of Time, being reduced to working at a job, was an insult to everything they stood for.

"That old fool!" Thor growled, feeling his anger rising. "To treat you, another God who has served Asgard for thousands of years with such cruelty is an outrage. He cannot keep doing this to people like us," he took Y/n's hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze, and Thor felt a burning desire to set things right. "Rest assured, I'll find a way to have him restore your abilities."

Y/n shook his head. "There's no need for that. I've accepted my fate as a mortal, and in some ways, I enjoy being human."

Thor's eyebrows ascended. "You do?"

Thor's surprise was evident on his face. The tall God remembered all too well the emotions that had consumed him when he was stripped of his powers and sent to Earth — the anger, the bitterness, and the overwhelming sense of tiredness that came with realizing that walking as a mortal was far more challenging than he had anticipated with long distances.

The waiter nodded in confirmation. "I do. There are some drawbacks to being human, like getting tired and injured, and I do miss being able to manipulate time. But being human granted me a freedom I never experienced before," Y/n paused, a faraway look in his eyes as if recalling a fond memory. "And I even found love."

Suddenly, the air in Central Park seemed to grow thick with each passing second. The once-bright sun was now concealed by the gathering of dark storm clouds. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a low, menacing growl that echoed through the trees. Additionally, the breeze picked up, carrying the scent of impending rainfalls.

Lightning crackled around the god's left fingertips, a visual manifestation of his rising emotions. His vision darkened at Y/n's words, and he gently withdrew his right hand from Y/n's grasp. Did Y/n just say what he thinks he just said? He had—

Y/n had found love. The word "love" reverberated through Thor like a strike of lightning, sending an unwelcome jolt of awareness through him. Love implied intimacy, tangled limbs, and passionate kisses. The thought of Y/n sharing such closeness with someone else awakened a surge of possessiveness through him.

Sensing the change in the weather, Y/n glanced up, noticing the dark clouds that had gathered. He looked around, seeing people leaving the park, then he turned his gaze to the man sitting next to him.

"Uh, Thor?"

Hearing his name, Thor snapped out of his turbulent thoughts and took a steady breath, consciously calming himself. As a response, the clouds above dissipated, replaced by the hot sun. The harsh wind softened, and the lightning that crackled from his fingertips faded away without a trace. The weather returned to normal.

"Love?" Thor echoed, his tone carefully neutral; he grappled with the unfamiliar emotion swirling within him. He tamped down the spike of jealousy, not wanting to seem possessive or unfair. They had been apart for years now, living separate lives, so what right did he have to claim Y/n's heart? And yet, the thought of Y/n being intimate with a male or a female stirred a possessive hunger deep within him, a feeling he had never experienced before, not even during his brief period with Jane. "Who is this person that has captured your heart?" He dangerously murmured disguised as casual curiosity.

Y/n smiled softly. "Her name is Maya."

"And how did you come to meet Maya?" Thor asked, his tone carefully controlled, even as that name rolled off his tongue like a sweet poison. But he schooled his features, keeping his emotions in check.

"Well, when I was sent to Earth, I found myself in the middle of an open road at night. Maya accidentally hit me with her car, but she took me into her apartment to rest up and recover. We spent a lot of time together, and eventually, we started dating as they say. She's a great woman."

A jaw clenched; Thor's teeth grinded as he forced himself to remain composed. So, Y/n had found love with this... Maya. "I see," his fingers curled into a fist. "And Is she aware of your past?" Y/n nodded silently in response. "Where is she now?"

The h/c-haired male seemed completely oblivious to the undercurrents of Thor’s jealousy as he spoke. "Maya had a hair appointment today, but she should be here soon, and you'll get to meet her."

Can't wait, Thor thought. He needed to see this Maya, to put a face to the name that now felt like a curse on his tongue. But more than that, he wanted to assert his presence, to let Maya know that Y/n was his first and would always belong to him. Furthermore, he would make sure—

"There you are, Y/n!" 

Instantly, Thor's head whipped around to see a female approaching their bench. This must be Maya. Her dark hair fell in loose waves down to her back, perfectly complementing her complexion and her radiant smile. She wore a comfortable denim jeans jumpsuit that hugged her hips, showcasing her curvaceous figure.

"About time you got here," Y/n stood to greet her with a soft smile, leaning down to brush his lips on her cheek. Her arms wrapped around him, and the affection between the couple was as clear as day.

"Sorry, I had to get my coffee. You know how I get," Maya let out a soft chuckle, her eyes widening as she looked over at the person sitting on the bench with her boyfriend. "Y-You're Thor!" she turned to Y/n again. "You did not tell me your old friend was the Thor from the Avengers!"

Y/n held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, you knew I was a god at one point, and that I'd be meeting an old friend. Who's the one, popular god that's currently running around New York City?"

"Still, you could've mentioned it was an Avenger!" Maya exclaimed, turning back to The god, who had been observing the exchange with a neutral expression. She held out her hand for him to shake. "It's so nice to meet you, Thor. I'm a big fan!"

Standing from the bench, Thor's tall and muscular frame towered over Maya, but not Y/n, who stood at a similar height. He shook Maya's hand gently, his gaze flickering briefly to Y/n's. "It's a pleasure to put a face to the name of the woman who has stolen my friend's heart," Thor's voice held an underlying current of quiet possession that the other two didn’t pick up on. "He has told me things about you."

"Oh, has he? Only good things, hopefully."

"I promise, only good things, babe," Y/n assured, his eyes shifting briefly to Thor. "So, Maya and I were just about to go to the carnival. Do you want to tag along?"

The God shook his head. "Thank you for the invitation, but I must decline. I have matters that require my attention back at the Avengers Compound." As much as Thor longed to spend more time with Y/n, he did not want to be a third wheel or see these two being affectionate.

The woman nodded in understanding. "I understand. You have the world to save and all. Perhaps next time if you're free."

"Most definitely," Thor agreed, his eyes following Y/n and Maya as they walked away, with Y/n's left hand in Maya's right.

A frustrated growl rumbled in Thor's throat as he raked a hand through his newly trimmed brown hair. This reunion had not gone as he had envisioned. He had imagined catching up on old times, and perhaps, even confessing his long-held feelings for Y/n. But, unfortunately, Maya's presence had ruined his plans.

The desire to remove this woman from the equation burned within Thor, and he knew there was only one way to do that. However, he understood that any harm brought upon Maya would hurt Y/n, and he didn't want to see his old friend hurt. Therefore, Thor decided to let Maya be.

At least, for now.

XXXXX XXXXX

In all honesty, Thor had been planning to return to the Compound. The thought of witnessing someone else's affection for Y/n was too much to bear. He had turned around, prepared to walk in the opposite direction when he changed his mind.

He turned back, deciding to secretly join Y/n and Maya at the carnival. He needed to see for himself the depth of Maya's love for Y/n when they were together.

The God maintained a discreet distance as he trailed secretly behind Y/n and his unfortunate girlfriend, not wanting them to realize he was following them. A few minutes later, he watched as the couple purchased their admission tickets and walked into the carnival, their hands still entwined. Thor lingered at the entrance, his eyes fixed on their retreating figures.

Thor paused at the entrance of the carnival, his mind formulating a plan. With the money Tony had generously provided, he decided to purchase a cap and sunglasses from the nearby store, employing a tactic he had learned from his time with the Avengers — infiltrating places and staying hidden in plain sight.

After getting his disguise, Thor paid for an admission ticket and stepped inside. 

The carnival was alive with the scent of cotton candy, popcorn, and funnel cake, mingling with both the excited chatter of children and the loud music blaring from speakers. People of all ages were there today, laughing and screaming as they rode roller coasters, tested their luck at games, and snacked on delicious foods.

Hidden behind sunglasses and a black cap, Thor moved with the crowd, his tall frame blending seamlessly into the sea of humans. His sharp eyes scanned the area, searching for the man he desired.

And as Thor navigated the carnival, his frustration mounted with each passing minute. He searched in vain for any sign of the couple, eyes scanning the crowds for Y/n and Maya, but couldn't find them anywhere. Heat started burning in Thor's chest that had nothing to do with the hot weather — but was rather fueled by his rising impatience and possessiveness.

"Damn it, where are they?" He muttered under his breath, irritation in his voice.

Thor quickened his pace.

Dodging between families and groups of teenagers, he walked past the game booths, bumper cars, and food stations.

His determined search finally paid off as he spotted Y/n's distinctive profile at the milk bottle toss game booth, a ball in his hands as he prepared to throw it. Maya stood behind him, holding a sundae cup with two spoons, as she cheered Y/n on.

Adjusting his sunglasses, Thor stepped closer to them. He watched as his friend threw the ball and knocked over a stack of milk bottles with accuracy. That didn’t surprise Thor; Y/n had been a seasoned warrior for thousands of years, after all.

The man behind the booth handed Y/n a stuffed animal—a tan plush dog— which Y/n then gave to Maya. Her smile lit up her face when she received the nice gift.

The couple walked away, sharing the sundae and laughing together. Thor's fists clenched at his sides as he fought the instinct to march over and pull Maya away — to claim what was rightfully his.

Instead, Thor forced himself to maintain a cool and distant demeanor, following his prey. He remained hidden, observing their interactions without them knowing. He kept his distance as the couple rode roller coasters, played more games, and indulged in stupid affectionate gestures. Throughout it all, Thor's anger bubbled, especially when Y/n had the audacity to cup Maya's cheek and kiss her softly.

That did it.

Thor knew he had promised himself that he wouldn't hurt Maya for Y/n's sake, not wanting to see him unhappy. But — after witnessing their interactions throughout the day, something snapped within him, and he didn't care about his promise. He decided that Y/n was meant to be happy with him — and him alone. The thought of anyone else having Y/n's heart was unbearable, and Thor found himself no longer caring about the consequences. He had no choice but to get rid of Maya.

On Friday night, Maya was leaving her workplace alone, while Y/n was at work. The night air was crisp, carrying a hint of a chill, as the streetlights casted orange glows along the pavement. Thor silently followed her. He kept a careful distance, mirroring her movements: walking when she walked, turning the corner when she turned, and stopping when she stopped. He hid when she turned around as if she knew somebody was trailing behind her.

A gust of wind rustled the leaves. Maya shivered from the cool, spring weather and pulled her jacket tighter, quickening her pace considerably. Her eyes glanced but she saw no one there. Unbeknownst to her, the threat loomed closer than ever.

As Maya passed an alleyway, the wind picked up again, and she felt a sense of unease. She stilled, feeling like she was being watched, "H-Hello?" she called out, her voice trembling. "Is someone there?"

Silence answered her, but Maya could've sworn she felt eyes boring into her back. She turned around, but the alleyway was empty. With a sense of unease lingering, she began walking, her steps faster now as she hurried towards the safety of her home, never pausing. Finally, she arrived at her apartment building and sauntered inside, the door closing firmly behind her.

As Maya set her keys down on the table and turned around, she let out a startled gasp at the sight of Thor standing there.

Quickly, Thor locked the top and bottom locks, feeling satisfaction from noticing the fear that flashed through her eyes.

Good, Thor thought, satisfied, be scared.

XXXXX XXXXX

The morning sun's rays filtered through the thin curtains, their warmth caressing Y/n's features, gently waking him up. He stretched languidly, and sat up, yawning. Then, the e/c-eyed man opened his eyes completely and headed to the bathroom.

One of the first things Y/n incorporated into his life as a mortal man was a nice skincare regimen. Maya had explained to him that humans often used facial masks to keep their skin clear and free from acne. In his previous life as a god, Y/n had never had to worry about such concerns, as his skin had always been flawless. Without his powers, however, he now found himself susceptible to the same skin issues that plagued mortals. So, he used these facial skin care masks.

Though Y/n can admit that he quite enjoyed these face masks. The soft texture against his skin was surprisingly wonderful, and the masks worked great.

He feels like his sister, Aphrodite.

After completing his morning routine, he grabbed his phone and made his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee, already prepared, as he dialed Maya's number. The ringing tone echoed aloud and was greeted by her voicemail.

The phone heading straight to voicemail didn't entirely surprise Y/n. He knew that she loved sleeping in after a hectic work week. He decided to pay her a surprise visit since he had been given a spare key.

Y/n opened the door and was prepared to step through it when his feet paused and looked down, suddenly noticing the white envelope on the ground. Frowning in confusion, he bent down to pick it up, his eyes scanning the words inscribed on the envelope: "To Y/n, From Maya."

Intrigued, Y/n opened the envelope, his eyes reading over the paragraph, and the frown on Y/n’s features deepened. Huh—

The note read: My dearest Y/n,

Hope all is going well. I just wanted you to know that you’ll always have a special place in my heart, and our relationship is the best thing that ever happened to me.

It pains me to say this, but, to be honest, I have fallen out of love. Our relationship has run its course, and I think we are no longer meant to be. My love for you has faded like a flower wilting under the sun.

Please know that this was an incredibly difficult decision for me, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

I wish you nothing but happiness. May you continue to find love and fulfillment in life. And who knows, maybe our paths will cross again when we least expect it. Until that happens tho, farewell, my love.

With a heart full of memories,

Maya. 

The note left Y/n stunned and confused. Maya had seemed happy and content in their relationship. How could she just fall out of love and walk away like this? It didn't make sense to him in the least. There's no way this letter could be real.

What—? Huh—? More questions plagued his mind as he couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and hurt. What had he done wrong? Had he pushed her away without realizing it? Or was there someone else?

Shaking his head, Y/n left his apartment building and headed straight for Maya's place. He needed to hear the reason for her decision from her own mouth, rather than reading it on a piece of paper. That wasn't fair to him and he deserved more.

Y/n's footsteps echoed hurriedly against the pavement as he hurried along the streets, rounding corners and navigating crosswalks. Finally, he arrived at Maya's place and hastily knocked on the door.

There was no response.

Then, Y/n inserted the spare key into the lock, twisted it, and marched inside. He stepped further into the room and called out to Maya when he noticed something.

Maya's apartment was empty.

It was completely devoid of her personal belongings — no furniture, decorations, nothing at all. He searched every room, drawer, and closet, but found no trace of her here. It was as if she never lived here.

Y/n pulled out his phone and tried to call Maya again — but it just went straight to voicemail. The realization sank in — this letter wasn't a joke or a prank. Maya had surely left him, and she hadn't even had the decency to do it in person or provide a proper explanation for her decision.

It was a hurtful and callous way to end their relationship. That's so messed up.

Y/n's hands balled into fists at his sides, the letter crumpling within his grasp. He felt a prickling sensation at the corners of his eyes, and he realized that he was experiencing two very human emotions:

Crying and heartbreak.

Y/n knew that gods experience human emotions such as crying, too. But now that Y/n was human, the experience felt different. In that moment, he understood the depths of his feelings for Maya. This was why mortals spoke of love as both a blessing and a curse — it can give you joy but could also inflict unbearable pain.

He exited Maya's apartment building, the crumpled letter still clutched in his hand, a tangible reminder of what he had lost. His eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, were facing downward as he walked, his thoughts consumed by these emotions. It was this lack of focus that caused him to accidentally bump into someone else, knocking their umbrella from their hand.

Crouching down, Y/n wrapped his hand around the umbrella to pick it up, but he found that he couldn't. Y/n bent down to retrieve the fallen umbrella, however, to his surprise, he found that he couldn't lift it. He tried with both hands this time, but the umbrella remained stubbornly out of reach. Jeez, this simple umbrella feels as hard as trying to lift Thor's hammer—

Wait a minute.

Y/n's eyes drifted upward, and he found Thor standing there, which means this umbrella was Thor's hammer in disguise.

"Oh, hi, Thor." Y/n’s voice came out soft, despite the emotions currently coursing through his mind, releasing his hold on the hammer. "Might want to pick that up."

Thor complied, lifting the hammer, eyes fixed on Y/n's e/c eyes. "Are you okay?"

Y/n’s response was quick. "Yes, I’m fine." 

Unconvinced by Y/n's fake composure, Thor placed a hand on his shoulder, his eyes filled with concern. "You know you don't have to pretend to be okay when it comes to me. You can tell me anything."

Finally, Y/n conceded. "Maya left me. Out of the blue, she broke things off and disappeared, and I don't understand why."

Thor's eyes softened, and he pulled Y/n into a comforting embrace. "I'm so sorry to hear that," his voice was, unknowingly, laced with feigned sympathy. "That lady doesn't deserve the honor of your love."

Unbeknownst to Y/n, a smirk played on Thor's lips, his eyes gleaming with a mix of vindication and triumph. He didn't like seeing Y/n in pain, but it was necessary.

The pain was only temporary, and Y/n would eventually get over this simple mortal. Then, there would be room for Thor, and they could finally be together.

In the weeks that followed, Y/n slipped into a deep depression. He spent most days lying in bed, thoughts consumed by the memories of Maya. He questioned everything, from his own worthiness to the nature of love itself. He didn't get it. Why had she left? Was he truly enough? These thoughts ate away at him — like maggots devouring the flesh of the dead.

Additionally, the only thing that stirred him from his bleak existence was his work. The familiarity of the restaurant, the mechanical tasks of serving tables, provided a fleeting sense of normalcy.

And throughout it all, there was only one person who was there for him — Thor.

The God of Thunder checked in on him regularly, offering words of comfort and support for his pal. He brought takeout, watched movies with him, and listened as the man poured out his heart, sharing his heartbreak and confusion. Thor was a great presence during his time of need.

In Thor's presence, he found himself smiling more. His appetite returned, and the dark circles under his eyes gradually faded. Y/n felt a little like himself again.

One evening, after Y/n finished his shift at the restaurant, he found himself with Thor in his bedroom. A movie played in the back, but they were too engrossed in conversation to pay attention to it. Thor had asked Y/n about his deepest desire.

"Well, being here on Earth for a long time made me desire love the most," was his admission as Y/n thought back to when he thought he had found love. "It seems that love is the emotion humans desire the most. I guess I'm one of them too."

Thor's eyes roamed over Y/n's face as if searching for something. And then, with deliberate slowness, he leaned in closer, his thumb gently stroking the back of Y/n's hand, sending shivers down his spine.

"I can give you the love you crave, Y/n," Thor murmured, voice deep and husky, his thumb continuing its gentle caress.

Y/n sat up straighter, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. He grabbed the remote and turned off the television, their conversation now the sole focus.

"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.

"I mean," Thor's voice rumbled. "I can show you what it means to be desired."

Y/n opened his mouth to ask the man to elaborate when Thor surged forward, his left hand cupping the back of Y/n’s neck and capturing his lips in a brutal kiss. Y/n gasped into the kiss as Thor's tongue, invaded his mouth, tasting and claiming, leaving no doubt about his intentions. 

E/c eyes widened in surprise at this, but Y/n didn’t immediately pull away. Thor's kiss was demanding, possessive as his free arm wrapped around Y/n, placing a hand on his back, pulling him closer. Y/n could feel Thor's hardness against his left thigh, straining against the fabric of his pants, and he moaned into the kiss.

Suddenly, Y/n pulled away slightly, breathless. "Thor, I—"

"Shh," Thor placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. "You want this, Y/n. You want my touch, my possession. Admit it, and I'll give you the love that you desire. You’ll forget all about that mortal, Maya." 

Stunned by this turn of events, Y/n could only manage a breathless, "Alright," he knew that he did crave this intimacy and always found Thor attractive. He wanted to feel that type of intimacy once more.

Suddenly, he felt the powerful urge to assert his agreement more physically, more explicitly. So, he pushed Thor onto his back, straddling his muscular thighs.

A devilish smile curved Thor's lips as he tugged on Y/n's shirt, eager to taste the body of the guy that he had daydreamed about countless times. With a sharp tug, buttons flew across the room, revealing smooth skin and toned muscles beneath.

"Dangerous move, little waiter," Thor murmured, his hands roaming across Y/n's chest, thumbs grazing perky nipples that tightened, hardened from his touch. "Now, I get to have my way with you."

Then, Thor trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along Y/n's jawline and down his neck. His teeth scraped gently over Y/n's pulse point, nipping and sucking until a dark bruise formed. Y/n's breath hitched as Thor's hand glided lower, his fingers tracing the waistband of his sweatpants.

"You like it when I touch you, don't you?" Thor whispered, his hot breath fanning across Y/n's ear, "Tell me what you want."

Y/n craned his neck to allow Thor better access to his neck and shoulders. "I... I want you to touch me, Thor. Everywhere."

Thor didn’t need a further invitation. His hand slipped beneath the waistband of Y/n's pants, exploring the terrain of his six-pack abs before dipping lower. Y/n arched his back, his breath catching as calloused fingers brushed against the length of his already long, stiff cock.

"You're so hard for me, little one," Thor murmured, fingers teasing the outline of Y/n's length before pulling away. "I want to see it. Want to watch it throb for me."

With trembling fingers, Y/n removed his pants, sliding the fabric down his legs, along with his boxers. His cock twitched eagerly, the head already glistening with pre-cum. He had never been so aroused, so desperate to be touched and taken.

Thor's eyes darkened with desire as he reached for Y/n's cock, stroking it firmly, his right thumb teasing the sensitive slit. "That's it, my beautiful God. Let me see you. Show me how much you want this."

The former God's lips parted on a moan, his hips involuntarily bucking into Thor's hand quickly. "Please, Thor... don't stop."

Thor smirked, the possessive gleam in his eyes undeniable. "I plan to take this much further.  But first, I want a taste..."

And with that, Thor leaned down, his hot breath tickling the head of Y/n's cock before his tongue darted out, licking a thick stripe up the underside. Y/n cried out, his hips jerking at the unexpected pleasure, and Thor chuckled, the sound vibrating against Y/n's sensitive flesh.

"So responsive," Thor murmured, his lips wrapping around Y/n's hardness as he sucked and teased with practiced skill.

Y/n threaded his fingers through Thor's hair, his head falling back as sensations bombarded him. Thor's tongue swirled and twirled, his lips sucking on his cock, driving Y/n wild with need. He looked up at Y/n through his eyelashes, reveling in the sight of his pleasure-clouded eyes, and he sucked Y/n's length deep into his mouth, his hands caressing Y/n's thighs, thighs that now tremble with anticipation.

"Please, Thor," Y/n begged, his voice raw with need. "I want to feel you inside me."

Thor released Y/n's cock from his mouth with a lewd pop, saliva dripping from his lips as his fingers unfastened his pants. "Time to see what a real god looks like."

Thor sat up, his eyes flashing with promise as he slowly revealed his thick, veiny cock. Y/n's mouth went dry at the sight, his own spent cock twitching with some renewed interest. Reaching inside the nightstand, Thor discovered a bottle of lube and slicked up his cock for Y/n.

"Damn, Thor, that's huge," Y/n whispered his gaze devouring every inch of Thor's masculine glory. "Even bigger than mine."

A smug grin stretched across Thor's face as he pushed Y/n back against the bed, kicking off his pants in the process. "Get a good look at this and commit this to your memory and your heart, because I intend to make you scream my name."

With that promise ringing in the air, Thor climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between Y/n’s thighs and lining up the tip of his cock with his entrance. 

"Tell me you want this, Y/n. Tell me you want me to fill you up." Thor's voice was low and commanding, his eyes intense.

Y/n nodded eagerly, his breath coming in short gasps. "Yeah, Thor. I want you. Please, take me. I need you inside me."

Hmm, Thor mused and pressed forward, his thick cock breaching Y/n with a slow, relentless thrust. Y/n cried out, his back arching off the bed as he was stretched wider than Y/n could remember. Thor paused, giving him a moment to adjust, but the reprieve was simply short-lived.

Thor began moving, his powerful thrusts driving Y/n into a euphoric haze. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound joined by the lewd slapping of skin and Y/n's loud moans as Thor’s hips moved.

"That's it, take it," The God of Thunder let out a growl, hands gripping Y/n's hips to gain better leverage. "You feel too good wrapped around my cock. I've dreamed of this... dreamed of claiming you, babe."

Y/n's eyes squeezed shut as he clung to Thor, his nails digging into the tall God's broad shoulders. "Oh, Thor, right there," he gasped, his entire body trembling on the edge of release. "Damn, I'm so close."

Thor's pace quickened, breath coming in hot, ragged gasps. "Open your eyes and look at me," he demanded, causing Y/n's eyes to snap open, his gaze locking with Thor's, and the Avenger's hand found his cock once again. "You make me feel like a true God. I could fuck you forever, but right now, I want you to come for me."

"Oh... fuck..." 

In response to Thor's words, Y/n's body tightened like a coil, and he came with a hoarse cry, his release coating Thor’s fingers. Then, Thor emptied himself into Y/n, his hips stuttering as he rode out his orgasm, painting Y/n’s ass hole in ribbons of white. He maintained eye contact with Y/n the whole time. Mine.

Panting and sweaty, Thor pulled out of Y/n and they collapsed against the bed, hearts beating fast from their encounter.

Thor pressed a tender kiss to Y/n's lips, his hands stroking the sweat-dampened skin of Y/n's torso. "You're incredible, Y/n. We were always meant to be together."

This was a known fact, and tonight was simply proof of their love for each other. Now, he needed to make sure Maya was fully out of the picture (Thor forced her to write that note to Y/n, and had set up a secret camera in Y/n's apartment, the footage transmitted to a hidden monitor in another location where he kept Maya chained and captive). Now that she had seen the love between them, he would tell Heimdall to execute her, ensuring she posed no threat to their happiness again.

Now, all that remained was for Odin to restore Y/n's powers. Then, they would be together forever, unburdened by the constraints that mortality has on people.

Just as it was meant to be. 

XXXXX XXXXX

[explosiongamora]

Being mostly unloved your whole life with out much attention from people around you 🤝 loving obsessive yandere characters

[nemesis-writer]

[Unwanted Ransom(Chapter 4)]

Glided Lily Masterlist TW- mentions of the movie Jersey Girl

9 years ago...

I was going to a pool party for my friend's birthday, but little did I know there was someone else that was gonna be there. I bought him some new sneakers he wanted because he never shut up about them. And since, I had hand me downs, I sold them to earn enough money for the sneakers.

By the time I reached the party Daniel, the friend, approached me saying, "Hey, Xerxes thanks for coming, I thought that you were a bit too busy for this."

"Fuck nah men, I wouldn't miss this for the world." I admitted.

Everything was going smoothly until I saw a person, I thought I would never see again...

Damian.

"What the hell are you doing here, freak?" He shouted at me.

"He is my friend what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You have no friends, dipshit."

"You have no mom dumbass."

Before I had time to know what I said, a fist came toward my face. Luckily I missed it, and responded with an uppercut to his cheek. Finally a taste of his own medicine, too say I was proud of me was an understatement. Until I heard,

"Ms. WAYNE".

Fucking cocksucker had to ruin this day. I felt Mr Wayne grab me by the collar and escorted me out of the party. Dennis muttered a 'sorry', but no one was allowed to do anything, so I couldn't ask for help.

At home...

"Ms Wayne what were you thinking!?"

"Before you continue, it's Ms Amala."

"Don't you give me that tone."

"You don't even know my name, you just call me be your last name just with a Ms."

"You attacked your brother"

"My 'brother' slashed me in my fucking arm and you didn't do shit."

"Maybe if you weren't such a bitch to him he wouldn't have."

"I HATE YOU I WISH MOM NEVER MET YOU!!! "

"SO DO I YOU LITTLE SHIT, YOU AND YOUR MOM RUINED MY LIFE."

"Go fuck yourself."

With that I ran to my 'bedroom', and no words were ever exchanged between me and both Bruce and Damian. I never gave them the satisfaction of looking at them, or even apologising.

Damian oddly, left me alone, well it sends a message to any bitch in school. I didn't care for their approval, I stopped when I was 7, feeling like it was pointless to care about them.

It never though, stopped me from joining competitions. I won multiple gold trophies, certificates, medals, even participation awards. I have 3 binders full of my achievements, containing pictures with the president of music, and the presidents of the sports I had joined.

But I kept a scrap-book of all my birthdays celebrated either by Alfred, or my friends. I was grateful, but it always felt like a pity-party, I always was the Wayne outcast but the more I say that, people would think I care.

Present Time.

"Xerxes?"

"Nope, nuh uh, wrong person." I reached for Morgan only for my arm to be grabbed by Jason again.

"What the fuck happened to you! I thought you were dead."

"Xerxes Wayne is dead, you can either address me as Jinx, Jennifer, or Ms Stark."

"Xerxes-"

I raised my eyebrows and cleared my throat at the rage of hearing a name, that was made to be neglected.

"Jennifer, we have been looking for you."

"Oh please"

"Bruce and Damian found your old trophies."

"I thought I told Alfred too clean up."

"The point is we miss you."

"You left me to rot with those people, the point is, now I have a life. You guys never cared about me, I was almost sent to military school for defending some autistic kid."

"Princess, I-"

"No, that ship sailed a long time ago" I ran to Morgan and carried her to our limousine, I never looked at Jason because even though he was the one that actually brought a bit of life to that place, he left us alone.

For now...

At the Wayne Manor...

Jason's POV

"Father we've got to bring her back, she is with the enemy."

"Damian, let's calm ourselves-"

"HOW THE FUCK DO YOU EXPECT ME TO BE CALM!!!"

"We are gonna bring her back soon Damian."

"She's not gonna come back", was all I could let out. I could feel the pointed glares of everyone, even demon spawn's stare pierced.

"What do you mean? She's our family, look at us who wouldn't want this?" Dick asked me, holding his veneer pride, but truly masking guilt and confusion.

"We weren't there for her, she left us when she had a chance." I was irritated to admit it, but it was true, our little bird flew the nest and we were to negligent to realise it.

"We have to bring her back, right?" Tim, was obviously the most idiotic out of all of us, because he decides to think we are picture perfect.

"We can't live on false hope Tim." I screamed with all emotions just completely bursting forth.

"WE WILL BRING OUR SISTER BACK!!!" and with hearing that, I immediately punched Damian, to be honest, a bit too hard for my liking. The demon did deserve it, depending on how you ask.

"Jason, calm down, she'll come to her senses and come back." hearing Bruce say that, before I react I felt something sharp pierce my neck, and slowly I lost consciousness, when I turned around I saw Cassandra murmur, 'sorry'.

Then everything became black

Taglist....

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz

[p3sephone]

My baby. (Dark! Ex! Wanda Maximoff x reader)

Prologue

Summary: you are Wanda's ex and you broke up with her a long time ago. Then Wanda decides it's a good idea to become your neighbor and take her baby back, one way or another.

Warnings: this is a dark! Serie about Wanda Maximoff that will contain dark themes such as violence, breaking in, non-con and similar stuff in the future chapters. Every chapter will have its own warnings to be safe. This is pure fiction and this character does not belong to me. Minors are NOT allowed, only +18. Any kind of interactions such as reblogs, comments or likes are much welcome and appreciated. 🤎

Prologue warnings: breaking inside, little use of magic.

Masterlist serie.

"I'm home!" you exclaimed with a smile on your face, closing the door behind you. You were happy to be back, you had a wonderful surprise for your roommate. You were sure that she hadn't suspected anything, after all you hadn't mentioned anything in these weeks and you knew how difficult it was. You had lost count of how many gifts and surprises you had ruined because you often spoke before thinking out of excitement.

But this time you didn't think, as you walked briskly towards the living room. The lights were on, she was surely sitting there on the couch watching some movie. You were already anticipating the scene. Your smile quickly dropped as the gift bag slipped from your hand and fell to the floor. The personalized mug inside had surely broken into a thousand pieces, but that was now the least of your problems.

Your roommate was lying there, apparently asleep, but you knew that wasn't the case. Not when Wanda was sitting on the other side of the couch with her arms crossed, then looking straight into your eyes. She had a small smile on her face, sly and arrogant you would say, but you could see all the hatred hidden behind her eyes. You were together, as teenagers, a long time ago. Wanda had lost everything, you too: you had regained everything and left Wanda behind, and Wanda had lost what was left of her, left with total nothingness. Considering that you had left her too. Or at least, that was what Wanda thought; in reality, your version would have been very different from hers, but you weren't really sure she wanted to hear it and even less that she was interested. "What are you doing in my house?" your own cold tone surprised you. It was as if someone else was talking to you and you didn't know how your knees could still hold up. But Wanda wasn't stupid, she could feel how your heart was beating like crazy, this still allowed her to act arrogant. She stood up from your couch and walked over to your boyfriend’s sleeping form, approaching you and freely ignoring your question.

“Is this your house? Our apartment was better.” It was a suggestion, obviously. It wasn’t the first time Wanda had tried to make you change your mind and tell you that the two of you were meant to be together, and at first you believed it. The first, the second and even the third time. Then you finally realized that she would tell you anything and lie shamelessly just to have you back by her side and reduce you to an object again.

You had loved that woman, but it was over. And she had to understand that.

“No, this house is better, with my roommate who I sincerely hope will wake up soon.” You made a suggestion and she immediately took it, laughing in your face.

“She’ll be fine, I just put her to sleep... I wanted to be alone with you, I missed you.” she said playing with your hair, and you could almost see the sincerity in her now slightly sad face. But you couldn't fall for it again and you had certainly been through too much because of her.

"But I haven't missed you, Wanda. Get out of my house."

You had caught her attention now, her fingers slowly stopped playing with your hair finally letting it go. Now you saw the real Wanda. Her hateful gaze with a red aura was intensely scrutinizing you and you swore they could see much more than your eyes or your face. Her eyes immediately became clear again and Wanda gave you a sweet smile, waving her right hand and using her magic. You remembered what that magic had done to you, you still had the scars.

"I can also go out, after all we will see each other every day. It's a pleasure to meet you again, neighbor!" she teased you giggling, then walking out of your door without you even accompanying her. You stood there in shock, standing numb in the doorway to the living room, watching the front door close and then the couch, where your roommate was now starting to wake up.

The nightmare had begun again.

[nosyp]

Unwilling Devotion

Chapter 1 - Unwelcomed Guests

Warnings = Kidnapping, dark

Pairing = Dark! Avengers x reader

Summary = You work as a barista for a cafe and Natasha and her friends would always visit. That was until one day, everything changed.

Word count = 2.6k words

A/N = First time attempting a series... pls be nice! Feedback is appreciated!!!

Last edited = 23 Dec 24

AO3 Link

Series masterlist

Read story 👇

Chapter 1 - The Unwelcomed Guests

Ring! 

The sound of the bell ringing alerted you and you immediately rose to attend to the new customer. 

“Uhm-! Hi! Welcome, what can I do for you?” you stammered, greeting the customer.

She didn’t respond and only stared at you, looking kind of taken aback but quickly composed herself and went back to examining the menu. 

You watched as she trailed her fingers through the menu looking for something of interest. The silence between you two was suffocating but she didn’t seem to mind. The awkwardness only stretched longer as you tried to keep a smile on your face while waiting for her. This happened often with new customers, and you never got used to it. 

‘Please say something, I’m dying here,’ you think to yourself, trying to keep yourself calm. Then you finally spoke up, “Ermm, we have a wide variety of flavours for our scones, so far the chocolate is the favorite amongst customers.”

Her gaze shifted to you and she perked an eyebrow. “Oh really?” she asks. “Well I’ll take that then,”

You let out a sigh of relief, ringing up her order and handing it to her with a forced smile, masking the tension that had been building from the awkward silence. Your eyes followed her beautiful red hair as she left. 

Now that you think of it, her outfit was kind of odd. She was wearing a tight black suit from her neck down. But you couldn’t lie, her figure was amazing so she’s probably just flaunting it. 

From that day, she’s visited daily, never missing a day. Sometimes she’d bring some of her friends while other times, she'd visit all alone. It was quite usual for customers to keep coming back but… this time felt weird. Most of the times when they’d return, you’d be glad to serve them but you dreaded whenever she came. Overtime, you learnt from her friends that her name was something along the lines of ‘Natalie’ or ‘Natasha’ or something like that

What made it even more concerning was the fact that sometimes she and some of her friends were covered in blood when they came in. You hadn’t dared to question it since their aura was quite intimidating already. The atmosphere shifted as soon as their foot stepped past the threshold. It could go from a calm and cozy atmosphere to an intense and heavy atmosphere, even the other customers felt it. They’d often ask you what was up with the group but all you could do was shrug in response.

The next few days felt the same. She came in every day, never saying much, always leaving you with that strange feeling of being watched. Sometimes she came alone, or other times she’d bring some of her friends. But no matter who she was with, there was always an intensity that followed her wherever she went, even into the small, cozy cafe.

Then, one night, the cafe was nearly empty. The wind outside howled, and the street lights flickered, casting odd shadows against the windows. You were cleaning up, getting ready to close when you heard the bell ring again. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t the usual polite silence that followed her arrival. There was something heavier in the air.

You turned, and there she was again, but this time, she wasn’t alone. Standing next to her was a man in a dark suit, you recognized him from the many ads you saw. You swore his name was…. Something stark? Whatever. And beside him… you recognized the others from her usual group. Each one of them was standing too still, too perfectly, almost as if they were waiting for something.

The woman, Natasha, didn’t say anything at first, but her gaze locked onto you immediately, her eyes dark and unreadable. It felt like she was seeing right through you.

"Late night for you, huh?" she said casually, walking toward the counter. "We’re not here for scones tonight."

Your heart started racing, but you forced yourself to smile, trying to maintain some normalcy despite the heavy feeling that seemed to seep into the walls of the café. "We’re almost closing, actually–"

Before you could finish, the man in the suit stepped forward. You didn’t know his name, but his presence alone was scary, his eyes looked cold and… calculating. "Actually, I think you’ll want to stay open for a little longer."

Your hands trembled as you went to the counter. Their arrival felt weird, like it was a trap that could catch you at any moment.

"Hello, how can I help you today?" you finally managed to ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

Natasha smiled at you, her grin felt off though. "Actually," she said, voice lowering, "I think we can help you."

You felt your breath get stuck in your throat. Something wasn’t right. “E-excuse me? I’m not too sure what you mean by that…” you stammered, breath hitching. 

Her smile widened, and she leaned forward, her red hair falling over her shoulder as she rested her elbows on the counter. "Oh, sweetheart," she purred, her tone dripping with fake concern, "don’t play dumb now. You’re smarter than that, aren’t you?"

The man behind her shifted, his hands crossed in front of his chest, eyes never leaving you. The others fanned out, moving with the kind of deliberate grace that sent chills down your spine. One of them was a tall blonde-haired woman with sharp features. She began looking through the shelves behind you.

“Holy, you’ve got a lot of nice stuff here,” she whispered underneath her breath.

‘Run, lock the doors, do anything, something.’ you screamed at yourself internally."I-I think you have the wrong person," you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of the moment. You felt so small in their gazes.

Natasha tilted her head, her smile fading into something more sinister. "Wrong person?" she repeated, as if testing the words. Her eyes had a hint of something, something dangerous. "You’re kinda cute when you’re nervous, you know that?"

The tension was suffocating now. The tall man then got closer, his boots creating a heavy thud with every step. "We’re not here to hurt you," he said, though his tone was anything but comforting. "Not unless you give us a reason to."

Your legs felt like jelly as you tried to step back, your back bumping against the huge, muscular man behind you. “Hey darling,” he whispers, making you flinch away from him. 

"I-I don’t understand. What do you want from me?" you ask. 

Natasha straightened, her expression softening just slightly, though it felt more like a predator playing with its prey. "Relax," she said, her voice almost soothing now. "We’re just... interested in you. Let’s call it professional curiosity."

"Professional?" you repeated, barely able to keep the tremor out of your voice.

She grinned, then opened her mouth again. "Something like that. You’ve caught our attention, and trust me, that’s not very common. But you..." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "You’re special."

You felt your heart skip a beat as her words processed in your head. "I—I’m just a girl working at a cafe," you said desperately. "There’s NOTHING special about me."

Natasha chuckled softly at your reaction. "Oh, honey," she said, her gaze locking onto yours, "you have no idea, do you?"

Before you could respond, the lights flickered, as if it was planned. Shadows were casted around the room and disappeared back into the darkness. You saw the group behind her exchange glances. You couldn’t tell what they were saying or signalling but you knew it was nothing good. 

Natasha’s smile faded entirely, replaced by a look of cold determination. "Close up," she said. From her tone, you could tell it was a demand that you couldn’t deny.

"What?"

"You heard me," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Lock the doors. Turn off the lights, do whatever you need to do. And then, we’ll have a little chat."

Every piece of your being screamed at you to say no, to run, to do anything but comply, but as her gaze bore into you which made you realise something chilling. You simply didn’t have a choice, all you could do was comply at this point.

Your fingers shuffled through the keys as you hesitated, glancing at Natasha and her group every once in a while. Each second felt like a long hour, so many pairs of eyes were on you. "I... I don’t understand," you murmured, your voice almost not clear enough.

Natasha tilted her head, her patience visibly wearing thin. "Lock. The. Door," she repeated, her words clipped but weirdly calm.

With trembling hands, you reached for the door, turning the lock with a click. The sound felt like a huge bell, reverberating through the silence of the cafe.

"Good," Natasha said, her smile returning. "Now, why don’t we all take a seat?"

She gestured toward one of the corner booths, but the invitation felt more like a command. You glanced at the clock on the wall, hoping for some sort of reprieve, but the hands seemed frozen, just like you.

The man in the dark suit’s voice suddenly broke the silence. "We can do this the easy way," he said with a slight threat in his words. "Or the hard way. Your choice."

“Why should I listen to you?” you spat out.

His eyes widened at your response. “You know you shouldn’t speak to us that way, we’re just here to save you,” he says. 

Save you? What does he mean by that?

“Calm down Tony, let them go at their own pace.” Natasha says.

Reluctantly, you moved toward the booth, your legs shaky as Natasha slid in across from you. The rest of the group remained standing, their eyes trained on you like hawks circling prey.

Natasha then folded her hands on the table, and her body leaned in. "So," she began, her tone almost conversational, "you’ve been working here for, what, six months? A year?"

"Eight months," you replied. Why were they asking about your job?

She nodded thoughtfully. "Eight months. That’s long enough to notice things. Patterns. People." Her eyes gleamed, and you had the unsettling feeling that this wasn’t small talk.

"I don’t-" you tried to say. 

"Save it," she interrupted, before she started again. "We’re not here to play games. Surprisingly… you’re actually in a position to help us. And… whether you like it or not, you’ve already seen too much."

"Excuse me? Seen too much?" your voice echoed, your confusion evident. "I don’t know what you’re talking about!" your voice rising. 

A dark-skinned man then stepped out of the shadows. "You’ve noticed us. Every time we’ve come in. You’ve seen us covered in blood. You’ve heard the whispers from the other customers. Don’t pretend you haven’t."

Your stomach churned as the memories flashed through your mind. Their glances, the blood stains on their clothes, the silenced voices that stopped as soon as you came close. You’d written it off as strange but took it as strictly out of your business. Well that was… until now.

"I didn’t say anything," you blurted out, panic rising in your chest. "I didn’t tell anyone!"

The cold, suffocating atmosphere of the café became unbearable. The group’s all had their gazes locked onto you, and gosh it was scary. 

“I-I need to grab something from the back,” you stammered, your finger pointing towards the kitchen. Natasha’s eyes followed your finger, then went back to you.

“Go ahead,” she said with a smirk, leaning back in the booth. “But don’t keep us waiting too long, sweetheart.”

Her voice was full with mockery, but you forced a smile. You nodded as you backed away and disappeared through the swinging door into the back. Your heart pounded like a drum in your ears, drowning out everything else.

You couldn’t stay. You can’t let them do this. Could you?

All of a sudden, in a moment of desperation, you grabbed your coat and bag from the staff locker, stuffing your trembling hands into the pockets. Your fingers brushed against your phone. You hurriedly pulled it out to call for help. 

But… when you turned it on, the signal was gone. Of course, after all these people are probably well trained criminals. They must’ve jammed the single somehow. A pit formed in your stomach, but you pushed forward. There had to be another way.

Your eyes darted to the back door. You still had the keys after all. If somehow you could just slip out quietly, maybe they wouldn’t even realize and you could just escape. BINGO! You’re a genius. Well you thought. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” a low voice rumbled behind you, pausing all your thoughts of escaping.

You turned around to find one of Natasha’s friends, ‘Steve’ or something, you totally forgot his name but he was blonde, and tall. If you weren’t wrong you swore you saw two of them like that.

His huge frame was leaning in the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed and a disgusting smirk plastered on his face. He was blocking your only exit back to the main room.

“J-just grabbing something,” you lied through your teeth, voice filled with fear.

He tilted his head, watching you in amusement. “Sure you are. And… you should know, she doesn’t like liars. And you shouldn’t test her.”

He took a step forward, and you took a step back. You didn’t even think about it. Your feet just moved, and you found yourself sprinting towards the back door as fast as you could. 

The cold outside air hit your face as soon as you shoved the door open, the alley behind the cafe called out to you. For a split second, you felt a rush of relief, as if you actually could escape. 

Then, you suddenly felt a grip on your arm. The grip got more intense as you tried to pry it off, slightly scraping him with your fingernails.

You screamed, and instinctively started squirming and kicking him. You tried to hit as hard as you could, but the grip was too strong. What is wrong with him? There’s no way he’s human. 

Your mind raced as you saw the blondie had caught up to you in an instant. His strength was overwhelming as he forced you back into the café.

“You’re feisty,” he muttered, almost amused. “But we can’t have you running off.”

“Let me go!” you cried, struggling uselessly against his grip.

By the time he dragged you back through the café, Natasha and the others were waiting by the front door. She sighed dramatically when she saw you, shaking her head as if disappointed.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” her voice interrupting the silence. “I was really hoping you’d cooperate, darling. But I guess things don’t always go our way.”

“Please,” you begged as tears streamed down your face while the tall man pushed you to your knees. “I don’t know anything! Just let me go!”

Natasha crouched down, her hand reaching out to tilt your chin up so you were forced to meet her eyes. You could swear they were the eyes of the devil. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” she said, her voice soft but menacing. “Not until we’re done with you.”

Then you blacked out. Consciousness leaving your being. 

[iamzer0]

𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙘 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘏𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘟 𝘏𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪, 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦

𝙏𝙤𝙣𝙮 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙠

Y’all met through an internship, y’all worked together on a plethora of projects.

You were working on a project at home, it was a mini engine that if worked would power a multitude of things.

But one thing lead to another and next thing you know it explodes. Your parents/guardians got the blunt of it, they died in the hospital.

You were taken in by none other than Tony fricken Stark, every persons dream right…?

It would be nice and all if you weren’t currently grieving the loss of your parents. He tried to help, but it only made things worse.

You felt almost trapped mostly because you kinda were, you weren’t aloud to do anything. You couldn’t go in the kitchen, couldn’t go in the lab, couldn’t use any tech that wasn’t highly monitored, couldn’t even leave.

In Tony’s defense, he was doing this to protect you but I came off more like kidnapping rather than protective parenting.

He was scared to lose you, after the near death experience he became much more possessive, scared that if he turned his back you would be gone.

You became depressed, staying in your bed, rotting. You were grieving and Tony certainly wasn’t helping.

"𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩? 𝙞 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚" 𝘛𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 "𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩...𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙜𝙤 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮.."

𝘽𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧

You were a kid of a fellow colleague, unfortunately for you your parents loved their work more than you.

They tested all kinds of serums and medicines on you, you gained some uncontrollable abilities. Your parents died due to radiation poisoning from something in their lab.

Naturally you were sent to live with your godfather, Bruce Banner.

He realized your abilities early on, as every thing in his penthouse was currently on the roof.

He helped you learn to control your abilities and emotions, while simultaneously bonding.

He was a nice guy, he gave you a good life. But unfortunately he wouldn’t let you leave like at all.

He say its for your protection but you call bullshit.

"𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙥 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨." 𝘉𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 "𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙝𝙮𝙥𝙤𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.

You weren’t scared of the hulk, you knew he would never hurt you. The hulk liked you so he tried to gentle towards you every time he came out.

But even the hulk won’t let you leave.

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙍𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨

You were kidnapped by hydra when you were a child, they wanted to test a new serum on you.

Fortunately for you the avengers busted down the base before they could do anything to you. It was a simple mission get in bust down the base and get out.

But guess who they stumbled upon, little old you(you are like 12-14yrs). Of course they took you back with them.

Steve felt almost drawn to you, you reminded him of himself before the super serum.

He basically took you under his wing, but it became less training more spending time together. But as he took on a more parental role in your life his traditional way of thinking started to shine through.

First off he didn’t let you use anything internet related no phone, no tablet, etc. He also had some real traditional views on family, in his mind children were meant to stay home while the adult worked.

It was incredibly boring considering he took away the radio after he found you taking it apart in an attempt to use the wires inside to escape.

"𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙩𝙤 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧" 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 "�� 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜... 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚..𝙮𝙤𝙪" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘴.

𝘽𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨

You were kidnapped by hydra when you were just 4 because of your powers, healing.

When Bucky was the winter soldier he was pretty prominent figure in your life. Every time he was injured, they made him come to you.

He couldn’t understand his feelings, but he liked your presence a lot it was like a shining light he never knew he needed. He would go as far to injure himself just to be near you.

When the soldier went back to being Bucky he almost immediately went to go get you.

The rest of the team couldn’t understand why he was so attached to this random traumatized teenager but not much they could do.

Bucky was incredibly paranoid so much so that y’all slept in the same room sometimes the same bed because he was scared that if he let you out his sight something bad would happen.

When the soldier would come out he would sorta just come up to you and hug/hold you it was strange but it stopped the soldier from being violent.

It kinda felt like a hostage situation, the air was always tense and you felt forever on edge. He scared you and his paranoia certainly did not help your fears.

"𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝘽𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 "𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙃𝙮𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪" 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 "𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 2 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚!" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮.

𝙉𝙖𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙖 𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙛𝙛

You were a kid she found abandoned in some old hydra base. She went through it looking for some abandoned documents.

But instead found you hunched in a corner, scared. She tried to coax you out but you swiped at her anytime she came close.

She ended up having to knock you out, she took you back to the tower.

It was a rough adjustment, especially considering you didn’t speak much English.

You bonded with Natasha, she gave you a sense of safety. The closer y’all got the more protective she became.

Something in her sorta changed the day you started calling her mom. She didn’t bother correcting you, it felt right to be called ‘mom’.

She felt this undying urge to protect you. It got to a point to where she would barely let anyone even interact with you.

She was essentially isolating you, though you couldn’t understand it you could almost feel her protection turn more malicious rather than loving.

"𝙢-𝙢𝙤𝙢 𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 "𝙤, 𝙢𝙤𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙠𝙖 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣"

𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙧

Your parents managed to piss off a sorcerer, the sorcerer did not take kindly to your parents disrespect. He went after the one thing they loved more than themselves, you.

He sent you away, quite literally. Next thing you know you are falling out of the sky, take a wild guess who you fell into.

None other than The prince of Asgard himself, Thor.

He took you in, you liked it at first. I mean you lived like royalty, stomach always full, a giant room, servants there 24/7.

Everything was amazing, until you became homesick. You missed your home, your friends, your family.

He loved you, a lot. He couldn’t bare to see you sad, but he also didn’t want you to leave. You were his beacon of hope, his Midgard child.

That’s why when he discovered a way to bring you back, he chose not to. But he couldn’t keep the truth from you forever.

His own brother told you about your “fathers” secret. From that day on you hated Thor.

You hated his protective nature, the way he wouldn’t let you leave at all without him.

"𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣, 𝙈𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙙𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚" 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. "....." 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘴.

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚

You were the child of a sorcerer, that happened to be close with Dr.strange. You were around 10-12 when your parent tragically died, took to many pills.

Stephan took you in, in your time of grief you clung to him like he was your life line. You followed him around, not caring where he went you just didn’t want to be alone.

Stephan found it annoying at first but grew to love your clinging, it was oddly comforting.

He grew to see you as this innocent little kid that needed to be sheltered. You didn’t care if you were outside or inside but you just didn’t want to be alone.

Things changed when you started to heal from your parents death, you were much less clingy and would rather do your own thing rather than follow Stephan around like a lost puppy.

Though he wouldn’t admit it this was upsetting to him, he quite enjoyed your presence.

Even with you getting over your parents death, things kinda remained the same. Stephan still saw you as this innocent child that needs to be sheltered from the harsh world.

You hated it it was almost infantilizing, you tried leaving multiple times but there was no point no matter where you went Stephan could just simply teleport you back.

"𝙄𝙈 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝙆𝙄𝘿, 𝙄 𝘾𝘼𝙉 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙔𝙎𝙇𝙀𝙁!!" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘯, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 "𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙙𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚" 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵.

𝙇𝙤𝙠𝙞

Loki was out doing a task for the grandmaster then he found himself in trouble, he was about to flee but then you dropped in, literally.

You dropped onto his attacker, attacking him with a makeshift knife. The rest of the group fled while you robbed the attacker. Loki stood there partially in shock the other part being amazement.

You gave him a simple nod before turning to leave, but Loki quickly stopped you by putting a hand on your shoulder.

That was the day your life changed.

Loki had a lot more in common with you than he cared to admit, you were something else, something special.

Basically you had a rags to riches type story because after Loki took you in your life did a complete 180. You could see he definitely cared about you, but if he truly loved you why were you so….. isolated?

It was a good life but you never saw anyone, ever. Loki was always there but you grew tired of only seeing him. You wanted more.

You were tired of the same old boring place, so you tried to venture out, bad move.

He almost immediately found you, after that he decided he couldn’t trust you. So he chained you to your bedpost.

It was a boring life when Loki wasn’t there you only had books to keep you company, and you had grown tired of reading long ago.

You started expressing your frustration and anger, in the form of yelling. He always made some bullshit reason up on why it was better if you stayed by him.

"𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙚? 𝙒𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙞𝙣" 𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙡

Unlike everyone else you were his actual kid, product of a hookup before Vanessa. But he still loved you when he found out you existed.

You came to live with him, mostly because your mom couldn’t “handle you anymore” so she shipped you off to your dads.

Y’all bonded surprisingly quick, y’all were basically best friends within the first hour of living there.

He of course had somethings he really didn’t want you to see, one was his face. He had some deep rooted fear he could never admit to that if you saw what was under the mask you would leave.

Of course that wasn’t true, you honestly didn’t care what he looked like. That made him even more attached to you.

He is incredibly lenient, about everything.

He becomes must for possessive as time passes on and it’s incredibly noticeable. Naturally you want to leave for a little bit so you do, there’s no locks on the door so it’s not hard to just leave.

It’s not that he doesn’t care if you leave it’s that he knows he can get you back easily if you do leave.

But there comes a point in time where enough is enough and that point happened when you had escaped for the 4th time this week and it’s Tuesday.

Drastic times call for drastic measures, like chaining you to the wall.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚" 𝘸𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 "𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙠𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘦.

A/N: I’m backkkkkkk, I low key really missed writing. Anyway I’m trying something new, let me know if y’all like it. I will be posting Hxh content but I wanna branch out a lil.

Anyway love you alll so so much bye bye(*^◯^*)

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Perfect Family

Pairing: Dark Peter Parker x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Peter knows you’re about to break up with him. So what’s the next logical step? Get you pregnant, obviously. 

WARNINGS: Babytrapping; Toxic relationship; Birth control Tampering. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

Peter knows exactly what you’re planning, after all he knows everything about you. You’re his other half, his soulmate. 

That’s how he knows you’re planning to break up with him. When he found out through the messages you had been sending your best friend he couldn’t believe his eyes.

How could you ever want that? You love him, he’s sure of that. 

You’re always telling him you love him, before you leave for your college or when you’re about to go to bed. Even if it’s with a blank face, rushing the words out of your mouth before you walk away, without a sincere smile. 

He makes sure to keep an update on the messages, his heart practically skipping a beat when you reveal your plan to break-up after your first-year anniversary, just a few weeks away.  

Peter forces himself to remain calm and to act as if he knows nothing, keeping up with the caring boyfriend’s character. He can’t raise suspicion now.

If his plan works out, you won’t be going anywhere.

“I’m pregnant.” you declare with a shaky voice. Peter stops, the plate falling off his hold and crashing into the ground. 

“Peter, I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know how this happened, I swear I took the birth control pills every day, I never missed them!” you exclaim, twisting your hands in anxiety.

Peter looks at you, his face completely expressionless and you fear the worst. You drop your head, panic starting to grow stronger. Peter is going to hate you for ruining everything.

You’re about to ruin both of your futures, but his especially. He wants to go to MIT, not become a dad so soon. 

“I’m truly so sorry and I-” Peter runs to you, elevating you into the air and swirling around as he lets out loud chuckles. 

“I can’t believe I’m gonna be a dad. Fuck, that’s the best news ever.” he exclaims, carefully dropping you back onto your feet. You clean the tears with the back of your hand, a small hopeful feeling growing inside you as you look at him. He looks radiant, much happier than what you had predicted. 

“R-Really? You’re not mad at me?” you hesitantly ask. Peter fondly smiles at you, cupping your cheek. 

“I could never be mad at you for this. It takes two to make a baby. Besides, it was always part of our future plans, right?” he says, dropping the last sentence with a lightly sketchy tone as if he’s waiting for you to agree but you ignore it, it’s probably your imagination acting up.

You can’t be a single-mother, you already know you won’t be able to deal with it and your child deserves to have both its father and mother together in their life, it’s the least you can do.

You can’t abandon Peter anymore. 

You nod as Peter drops on the ground, pressing his head against your belly. Your hand instinctively goes to his head, caressing his brown hair and his hand comes to cover your own. 

“This is perfect.” Peter whispers, pressing kisses towards your belly, where your baby is developing. “You, me and our baby. A perfect family.” 

[highonmarvel]

heyy lov ur fics. saw you wanted some bucky recs so i got one. how about like bucky and reader have been dating for 2-3 months and he's always sweet to her and always making sure she was happy. he even promised to get rid of almost all of his weapons. but then he secretly didnt. he still had them, for "saftey purposes" he couldnt let anything happen to u. so he kept them in a secret room along with some pictures of u he took when he was observing(stalking) you before he entered into ur life -P1

that’s actually such a scary idea, i love it. okay, okay, you had a lot so apologises if it’s a bit different than you were expecting, but i tried, and i had fun! let me know if you like it! and my sweet sister @thehydraethereal, tell me what you think.

The Sun

Bucky Barnes: Bucky’s world revolves around you, The Sun, his sunshine, and he’ll do just about anything to make you happy, but everything to keep you safe.

CONTENT WARNING: This is a dark fic, please read content warnings here! 18+!

You’ve always been more of a glass half-full type of person, but with Bucky, you’ve really turned into a ray of sunshine—he just brings that out in you, treating you as precious as every breath he takes and as vital to life as the Sun itself. He said that to you once, when you asked why he calls you sunshine while laying your head in his lap, smiling in bliss as he stroked your hair. He said, “My world revolves around you.”

Even after three months, he still treats you with the same respect and gentleness and love and patience as that very first day, if not even more. There was only once you two had had a serious disagreement—it wasn’t really an argument, no one was angry, but it certainly could’ve been a massive dealbreaker for you.

Bucky never spoke much of his childhood, his teenage years, or even his adult ones, he only really went three years into the past, max, but you had pieced together he’s been through a lot, and so you never pushed him, but you made sure to make it clear you’d be there for him if and when he was ready to talk about it. There was a lot he did that showed you he was a war vet, and that as reluctant as he may be to admit it, he was suffering from some form of PTSD—he doesn’t like watching espionage films, or even movies with too much violence (which you don’t mind skipping, you don’t care too much for them either way), he’s sensitive to loud noises and a few times he’s jolted you out of your slumber with his nightmares, but he claims they’re much better with you than before. The metal arm also fascinated you—he said it’s made of vibranium, and you frowned at the thought of why he would need such a strong arm, but that you managed to get used to. What you couldn’t get used to, however, was his weaponry.

You had been sitting on the couch together when there was a thud from the next room over, and Bucky jumped up, soldier stance and everything, ready to go check it out. You were about to assure him it was nothing, tell him you forgot to close a window and a breeze probably knocked something over, when he slid a knife out of his boot and your breath caught in your throat. You followed the silver glint with your eyes as he stalked around the corner and then disappeared for a few moments.

“Birdie slammed against the window,” he said, relieved with a small smile, and you could hardly believe the juxtaposition between his use of the term ‘birdie’ while he held a knife securely in his hand. When you didn’t respond, staring at him with wide eyes, his brows turned downward in show of concern, and his voice came sincerely, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? It was nothing.” He incorrectly assumed the noise had scared you, but quickly came to understand when he noticed your gaze fixed on the knife.

“This?” he asked, casually, spinning the knife on his finger, but when you jumped back, he quickly hid it behind his back and cast his head downward in shame. He hadn’t meant to scare you, and though he felt bad, he couldn’t help but feel a little offended you’d think his arsenal was something to be afraid of. He’d never lay a hand on you, let alone a tool, why were you scared? Did you not trust him? He only kept this stuff to keep you safe. And besides, you knew about his slight paranoia with defence, so why did this catch you off guard? Sure, maybe the knife in the boot was a little too much for you to handle, but you seemed to take more issue with its existence rather than his convenient hiding.

“Sorry,” he mumbled an apology, managing to look up at you. “I didn’t mean to scare you, just had to make sure everything was alright.” He offered a weak smile in hopes of setting you at ease, but it faded when you stood up to confront him, shaking slightly.

“Why do you have a knife?” you asked in horror, voice raising in pitch. “What— do you just— do you just always have that on you?”

It’s the knife you’re worried about. Darling, if you knew the half of it.

“Protection,” he answered simply, innocently, not understanding your reaction.

“What— what else do you have? And— and in your house? You have to get rid of it!”

At any other time he would have pushed back on this (gently, of course), but in your frantic state he knew it wouldn’t serve either of you very well. He really hadn’t expected you to start hyperventilating about it. He switched to soothing you, holding you in his arms and promising he would get rid of all that, that you could feel safe… even though in his mind, his weapons were to make you feel safe, to keep you safe.

There’s a cupboard in Bucky’s house that’s always locked, and he tells you it’s just tools and some clutter he needs to clear out. But what you don’t know is he’s still got his shit in there. In any other circumstance, he would do anything you asked of him, but in this case, he got the impression you didn’t understand, that you were a little naïve when it came to this sort of stuff, like you’d always been sheltered and protected in a way that never needed violence. But he knows what the real world is like, and he knows what he’s got to do to keep you safe.

That was a few months ago. Now, trying to watch a film from the 40s—something with Jimmy Stewart, to grant Bucky a little nostalgia and tick another movie off your cinephile list—you both doze off, but you wake up before him. He usually wakes up earlier than you and falls asleep later, so you rarely see him asleep, only once you had to wake him up from the vivid nightmare, but here, now, he’s peaceful—his eyes are shut, his breathing is steady, his muscles aren’t tensed, this is the first time you’ve seen him lose himself to unconsciousness, and your heart swells at the realisation he feels safe enough to be so vulnerable around you.

As much as you would have loved to watch him breathe, after all the snacks you ate during the movie, your hands are sticky and you can’t really fall back asleep without washing them. On the way to the bathroom, you pause just before the door. The cupboard Bucky keeps his tools in is slightly ajar, it’s always been locked. And you’re not sure what compels you to head over to the door, but you carefully open it, wincing when it creaks slightly, before gasping at the scene.

He said he’d get rid of them! Not only are there multiple sharp blades of varying lengths, there’s more ammo that you could ever imagine needing, pistols, and a shotgun on the wall, you’re pretty sure you spot a fucking grenade, but maybe most terrifyingly is a mask. If this really was for safety (you’re really trying to give him the benefit of the doubt here) why the fuck did he have a mask? Like he was hiding behind it. He wouldn’t need to hide his identity from an intruder, he’d only need to if he was trying not to get caught if he was doing something wrong, if he was—

Bucky drops the bat to catch you before you hit the ground, wincing at the sight of your limp body in his arms. Fuck, he had stuck up a few more pictures of you earlier that day, and clearly forgot to lock the closet. The guilt from hurting you is enough to make him sick, but he’s got to figure out how to savage this.

If he just sets you right back on the couch and puts on some kind of thriller movie, you’ll think it was a dream when you wake up again, right? That your subconscious mind was taking in what was playing on the TV and affecting your sleep. That makes sense, that makes perfect sense, and that’s for you to figure out on your own; he won’t need to explain it or answer questions because really all it was was a bad dream, and he knows about those, you know he has experience with them, you’ll believe him when he tells you how real they can feel—you’ve seen it—and trust that everything’s alright, and he’s good to keep you safe.

After an hour, you begin to stir, and he redirects his gaze from being hyper focused on you to watching the film intently, though this far in he doesn’t know anything about the plot and hopes you don’t ask too many questions about it.

When he hears your quiet moans indicating you’re awake now, and feels your stretch beside him, he looks back at you. “Mornin’, Sunshine,” he teases, hoping you’ll giggle and say something about not realising it was dark outside. But you don’t, instead you startle and recoil back slightly, eyeing him suspiciously.

He forces his brows to furrow in confusion as he sets his half empty bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table. He tries to shift towards you but when you shift back, he sighs and stays in place.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice, his tone sincere and soothing. But he can tell you don’t buy it.

“You said you’d get rid of them!” you yell, and he winces slightly—you’ve never raised your voice at him, and if you’re this worked up over it it might take him a little more patience than anticipated to do some damage control.

“Get rid of what?” he asks. The best thing to do here is just play dumb.

“Your— your weapons! There’s— there’s so many of them, you said you’d get rid of them!”

“Baby, baby, baby,” he coos when you start breathing heavily, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “You just had a bad dream, okay? It’s alright…”

“No!” you shriek, kicking him away from you. “In the— in the closet!”

“What closet?”

“The— the one with the tools!”

“There’s nothing in there, sweetheart.”

“Then open it.”

He freezes for a second—he hadn’t expected you to ask that. “I don’t— I don’t know where the key is.” Fuck. He’s fucked. He knew it from the moment he hesitated, and his stuttering further solidified his guilt in your mind. His eyes grew just a little wider as he waited for you to respond, hardly breathing. You can read him like an open book, and he knows he can’t backtrack the few small ticks that set you on the scent.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him for a moment, but blink, and then nod, slowing your breaths down and directing your stare to the floor. “Alright,” you say, and Bucky himself can’t help but sigh in relief.

“I’m sorry you had a bad dream,” he coos as he shifts closer to you, and this time, you don’t shift away. He puts his arms around you and comfortingly rubs your shoulder, resting his head on top of yours.

You don’t buy it for a second.

That’s way too specific a dream for you to have months after even thinking about that stuff, and you’re not fucking stupid, you can tell what’s real and what’s not, and that was real. But for the time being, it seems easier to appease him. Maybe you really did imagine it… you doubt it, though, especially when Bucky’s body went rigid in response to your request. Even if you didn’t see what you thought you did, he’s definitely hiding something in that closet.

His phone rings, and he sighs, apologising as he carefully unwraps himself from you, reaching into his pocket to answer the phone as he stands up. “Hello?” There’s a few quick and low words from whoever’s on the other end and the groan he lets out allows you to guess it’s something Avengers-related. Though he isn’t an Avenger anymore (he gave up all violence, even in the name of justice) Sam does occasionally call him up to ask for advice on espionage matters or blueprints or just his thoughts on whatever’s going on.

“I’ve got to run, sweetheart; Sam’s being an asshole and I need to do some damage control,” he chuckles, and looks back down at you hesitantly, waiting for a response of some kind, but you’re quiet, arms crossed over your chest, slouched on the couch and looking at the floor, almost petulant but more… pensive. And that worries him.

“I can— I can stay if you want me to—”

“No,” you answer so casually it’s like something in him shatters. Sure, you’re not always grovelling at his feet when he opens the door but you’ve never been so nonchalant about him leaving to go take care of stuff. Even if it wasn’t all that sincere, you’d still make a little scene out of missing him so much. “I’ll see you later.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it, pressing his lips into a thin line as he nods, and then sighs.

He can’t leave you alone here: you’ll either run the second you can or hurt yourself trying to figure out how to get the cupboard open again. In both cases he won't be able to keep you safe, you’ll get hurt. But you’re also not yourself right now, and he doesn’t want to come on too strong and risk scaring you off for good. Not that he’d ever let you get away.

So he leaves, locks the door, but doesn’t get in his car. Usually he would grant that you’d be able to see the red flag there but you seem hyper focused on getting to his shit and he surmises he can get away with it. Between the tall plants covering his windows, he can just about make you out, sitting completely still on the couch for a few moments, it’s like you’re not even breathing. He subconsciously finds himself holding his breath as well—Are you waiting for him to start the car? Have you noticed he didn’t take his wallet?—narrowing his eyes at you, trying to anticipate your next move.

60 seconds, and you jump up.

***

You take a very quick look around the lounge, just to really make sure he left, and with no sign of him, you start off down the corridor again to his cupboard. It’s locked, and you know better than to even try to look for the key. But you have to do something: how could you live with yourself knowing that either you’d have broken up with your seemingly perfect boyfriend for no reason at all, or ever feel at peace again when there’s this heavy suspicion just hanging there?

You don’t know how you ever learnt it but you pull a pin from your hair and unfold it, closing one eye and sticking your tongue out slightly as you wriggle it around in the key slot, muttering “Please, please, please, please, please” to yourself over and over as you strain to hear for the clicks. One, two, three clicks and it opens! And you have no idea how you did it but it’s done now. You quickly open the door and gasp. You really shouldn’t be surprised—you know it wasn’t a dream—but the double confirmation really takes the wind out of you, and you feel betrayed. He lied to you, why did he lie to you? But there’s something else you didn’t notice before. On the inside of the door, polaroids of you that you know are before you met him are hung up haphazardly with messy tape—and they’re pictures of you doing mundane tasks, your everyday life. With shaking hands, you reach towards one that you’re afraid is of you in the shower, tears collecting on your lashes. As you reach for it, your elbow hits a shotgun and it falls and fires.

You scream as you jump back, and away from the door, you come face to face with Bucky at the end of the hallway, looking horrified as if it’s you who’s doing what you’re not supposed to.

Why the fuck is this thing even loaded if it’s just sitting around? These are assault rifles and deadly tools just at the ready, all the time.

Bucky carefully calls your name, and you turn on your heel and sprint towards the bedroom door at the opposite end of the corridor, but he catches up to you way too easily. He grabs you and slams your head against the doorway, causing you to black out and fall to the floor.

***

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh fuck! How was he so careless not once but twice? What if you’d gotten seriously hurt or even killed? And he’s mad at himself but he can’t help but feel mad at you, too. Why didn’t you just leave it alone? Sure, he fucked up by forgetting to lock it but why on Earth did you push for it? It was locked this time, why were you so obsessed with this!?

He takes a few deep breaths to stop himself from launching into a panic attack. He can fix this, it’s fine, you just need a bit of time to calm down, but he has a feeling if you took a relationship ‘break’ he’d never find you again. So you can’t leave, you just need to be somewhere safe.

Bucky’s basement is hardly even a room—that’s why he keeps his weapons upstairs, and so that they’re always there when he needs them. It’s small, but big enough for a few shelves and a twin-sized mattress, it’s more a very temporary storm shelter—or a panic room, to a weaker person. There aren’t any windows, and so the thought of getting you situated there for an indefinite amount of time isn’t pleasant. He always gets up before you, and, yes, part of that is nature, and part of it is his awe for your peaceful sleeping form, a level of serenity in darkness he’s not sure he’d ever be able to achieve. The sun peaks in through the curtains and lightly bronzes your skin for a few minutes until you stir and wake up to him beside you, pure adoration in his eyes. And every morning, he knows he’d give up the light of day forever if he could only wake up next to you one more time.

***

You grimace as you wake up, feeling uncomfortable—the room feels somehow cold yet stuffy, and the mattress you’re laying on feels scruffy and a little old. You toss and turn a few times before you realise that this is real. When the thought hits, you rip your eyes open, shooting upright to scan your surroundings while your breathing gets heavier and heavier.

Your eyes land on Bucky sitting at the bottom of the stairs with a book in one hand, his metal one mindlessly twirling a thick chain between his fingers, tightening and loosening it. To test, you tug on your leg and he automatically grips tighter to the restraint, even before noticing you’re up.

“Hey, sweetheart…” he coos, setting his book down and letting go of the chain. He crouches down and sits at the bottom of the mattress, coaxing you with soothing rubs on your shin like you’re a mental patient or a wild animal, unpredictable. “How’re you feeling?”

How are you feeling? How are you feeling?

“Are you out of your mind!?” you shriek, and kick at him—it doesn’t hurt him, but he does raise his palm from your leg. Dropping his voice to a sweeter tone, he tries to calm you down. “You’re alright, you’re safe, everything’s okay, baby.”

He reaches out a hand to stroke your face but you slap it away, looking up at him with wild eyes and messy hair, you let your tone drop to a dangerous low as you warn, “Don’t… touch me.”

He gives a disappointed sigh but eventually tuts to himself in agreement. You just need to get this out of your system, it’ll be fine.

But it’s not. It’s not fine, and it’s taking a toll on him. You’ve never been like this before, so angry and irrational and erratic and unpredictable, but that’s not what he minds. He can deal with you throwing insults his way, swinging at him (in vain, of course) or resorting to silence, but what really starts to tick him off is when you refuse to eat. He let it slide the first day, tried to play it cool and just left the tray down for you, but he went upstairs and nervously paced back and forth until the morning. When he came down with breakfast, he discovered you hadn’t so much as touched your meal, not even the tray itself, and though he asked you in an even tone to eat something (and got nothing but silence in return) it was worrying him, he nearly wanted to plead with you, but he knew if he cracked you’d see a weak spot and keep ramming it until you get your way, and he can’t have that.

It’s the third day now, and he finally decides he needs to feed you. He sits down in front of you and pulls the tray towards him, scooping up some rice on a plastic spoon. He holds the food to your lips but you keep them shut tight, even when he gently pokes your mouth a few times. He’s sure you can see the stress you’re causing him: he’s hardly sleeping, as shown by the bags under his eyes, and he can’t even go for a jog to clear his head in case you do something crazy while he’s gone. With a deep breath, he sets the spoon down and leans back, considering his next move. Maybe you’d drink a smoothie. Not ideal but better than nothing.

“Alright,” he huffs as he stands up. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna make you a smoothie.”

He’s only just turned his back when he hears clattering, and when he looks back to you, you’ve got fury etched onto your features and the food he so carefully and lovingly prepared for you is strewn across the floor.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” he bellows, and backhands you, sending you to the floor. With your mouth agape, you clutch your cheek and look up at him in shock. He’s never even raised his voice at you, let alone yelled, let alone lay a finger on you. “Just fucking listen to me! Eat!” He kicks the tray further back and you startle, paralysed by pure shock.

He takes a deep breath in, and a long huff out, clenching his fists at his sides. His blue eyes you had once thought of as calm oceans are ablaze, he’s shaking with anger, and his voice quivers as he tries to speak in a level tone to you. “I… am going to make you a smoothie, and you are going to drink it, or you’ll never see the sun again.”

When he slams the door shut behind him, you finally allow tears to fall. You don’t know what that threat means—will he never let you out? Will he kill you? At first you didn’t think so, even when he held you down as you screamed and kicked, but you never thought he’d hit you either, you never thought he was capable of such rage, and though he kept it relatively under control, you saw what that was. It wasn’t just ire, it was like flames licked his entire being, engulfing him and lighting him up. While you thought of him as your Sun, now, that was for a different reason—now, he feels like the actuality of the star: unpredictable and unbearably dangerous, but… necessary for survival, and inescapable.

✪

[my beloved taglist; @cowboysnbugs, @buckys-wintersoldier, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @cjand10]

[peoplesgraves]

Can I request a Yandere Deadpool with s/o that sleeps in weird places like UNDER the bed and behind the fridge and on top of it also they sleep like a rock so if Deadpool can’t find them…. I really wanna see him have a panic attack!

Yandere Deadpool X Weird Sleep Reader Headcanons

•Hes pretty calm about it compared to a lot of other yanderes. Like if he wakes up and notices you’re not in his arms (like you should be) then he’ll just sleepily stumble around, like a whiny kid, until he finds you and then joins you. Have you ever seen a grown man try to wedge himself inside the closet without waking someone else? Pretty funny honestly.

•Youre like a cat. He never quite knows where he’ll find you so it’s always like a fun little surprise. The only time he’d really get concerned and either wake you up or move you himself would be when you’re sleeping a bad position or somewhere dangerous.

•I don’t think he’d ever truly lose you but the closest he’s come is when he couldn’t find you in any of your usual spots or the unusual ones. After a brief panic attack, he sits in the bed and there you are! Sleeping in bed and officially the last place he’d think to look.

[yandere-wishes]

Okay but like when did Ultron turn hot?? Like I was (am) obsessed with all things marvel, so how did I miss THIS.

The half lidded eyes, the head tilt, the sarcastic comments!! And you know he is nothing less than YANCORE~💜💜

[chaoticforever]

Where The Path Led | Yandere Stephen Strange x Male! Reader

Summary: Who thought having sex with Doctor Strange would cause the man to become very obsessive and delusional?

Y/n stirred groggily, a throbbing headache pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He blinked his eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning light streaming through the window. The brightness only added to his discomfort, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. The room spun slightly, and he had to close his eyes again to steady himself.

After a few deep breaths, he cautiously opened his eyes again, this time letting them adjust to the bright light. As his vision cleared, he turned his head to the right, wincing at the sharp pain from his neck. That's when he noticed something that made his heart skip a beat or two.

This wasn't his room.

It took him a moment to register that he also was not alone. An arm was draped casually across his waist, belonging to someone still deeply asleep. Following the arm up, Y/n recognized the face — it was his colleague, Stephen Strange. The man looked peaceful sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The sight of Stephen lying next to him sent a rush of memories flooding back to Y/n.

The night before, Y/n had gone to a bar in the city, intent on drowning himself in alcohol. He had discovered yesterday that Marcus, his boyfriend of two years, had been cheating on him. The betrayal stung deeply, and he needed an escape. He wanted to forget, if only for one night.

And that's when Stephen had appeared. Noticing Y/n's somber mood, he joined him at the bar. The two men had shared drinks and danced together. Before they knew it, they ended up back at Stephen's place, and one thing had led to another.

Now, Y/n thought back to that moment with a sense of regret. He hadn't wanted to sleep with anyone; he had just wanted a night to forget his issues. Carefully, he eased himself out of Stephen's embrace, holding his breath and slipping out from under the covers. Spotting his clothes scattered on the floor, he began to dress quietly, wincing at the rustling fabric. He located his phone and keys in one of the pockets and quietly left Stephen's home.

Upon returning to his apartment, Y/n made a beeline for the bathroom. The cool water on his face felt amazing, but he knew he looked and felt like a mess. He vowed to himself that he wouldn't indulge in such heavy drinking again.

Going to the kitchen, Y/n began making this hangover remedy his dad had often made for him back in his early twenties. Y/n didn't think he would need it again, but it turns out that he did. As he mixed the ingredients, his phone rang and saw that Mercedes was calling. He answered.

"Hey, Mercedes."

"Hi, Y/n," Mercedes' cheerful voice came through. "So, what did you get up to last night? Drinking liquor at a bar, perhaps?"

Y/n blinked, because how did she just— "Uh, how'd you know that I went out to a bar last night? I didn’t tell you about that."

"I heard from Juan," his friend explained. "Said that he saw you at Charley's bar, getting wasted. He also mentioned that he saw you leave with someone — a tall male with black hair and a goatee. Did you hook up with somebody last night?"

Y/n sighed as he poured the remedy into a cup. "I did. I slept with my colleague, Stephen. It was a drunk hookup though, nothing more, and It won't happen again."

"And why won't it happen again?"

"To be honest, I don't like Stephen in that way," Y/n replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "And after finding out about Marcus, I don't feel like dating or hooking up with anyone for a while."

"I understand," Mercedes' voice was soft. "Take all the time you need to heal but don't let Marcus' actions hold you back. He doesn't deserve your time or energy."

Y/n smiled. Mercedes always knew the right thing to say to make him feel better.

"Thank you, Mercedes," Y/n said gently. "Listen, I'm going to hop in the shower, but we can talk later. Tell Sam I said hi."

"Will do! Talk to you later, n/n," Mercedes responded before the call disconnected.

Y/n placed his phone on the charger and headed for the shower, hoping the warm water would soothe his aching body and clear his mind after the chaotic night he experienced and a challenging morning.

XXXXX XXXXX

Monday morning arrived, and Y/n woke up feeling refreshed and surprisingly energetic, considering the events of the past few days. He had spent the rest of his weekend relaxing in the living room and briefly chatting with his dad on the phone. It felt like he had finally gotten a good night's rest, and the absence of a killer headache was a welcome bonus.

The male stretched his arms above his head and yawned, feeling the satisfying crack of his joints. He whistled softly to himself as he went through his morning routine, preparing for the long day ahead.

As he drove to the hospital, his thoughts drifted back to his night with Stephen. A flush crept up his neck, thinking back to their sexual encounter. Even though they worked in different areas of the hospital— Y/n as an immunologist and Stephen as a neurosurgeon — they still often saw one another. Y/n wondered if the man in question would bring up what happened between them. He hoped he'd agree to forget about the situation and move on.

When he entered the familiar halls of the hospital, Y/n greeted his colleagues with a smile and nodded to familiar faces. He made his way to the staff lounge for that much-needed cup of coffee because his appointments were back-to-back, and he knew the caffeine would be essential to getting through the day. The lounge was empty as he poured the liquid into a cup.

And then:

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Good morning, Y/n," that was Stephen's voice. Stephen's arms wrapped around Y/n's body, planting a hand on his chest. Y/n's breath hitched as Stephen planted hot, wet kisses on the back of his neck. "You were really amazing last night, you know?" Stephen nipped at Y/n's earlobe. "We definitely got to recreate that, huh?"

Y/n’s breathing hitched. He couldn’t deny that Stephen’s lips felt amazing against his skin, but he really needed to talk to him to make sure they were on the same page. And seeing how this guy was sucking on the back of his neck, It's clear that they weren’t on the same page.

Y/n turned around in Stephen's embrace, stopping the kisses and taking one step back. "Stephen, we need to talk," he said.

The man in question, on the other hand, shook his head. "Later. I want to make love to you again. Right here, right now."

His hand reached forward, palming Y/n's erection with his fingers. This caused Y/n to take two steps back, needing to put a sizable distance between them. There was no way they could do anything here, especially in a hospital where they could be walked in on at any given moment.

Stephen looked annoyed as he took two steps forward, placing his hand on Y/n’s shoulder. "What is there to talk about?"

Y/n took a deep breath in, gathering his thoughts together. "Look, man, last night was — it was a mistake. A good mistake, but still a mistake. We were drunk, and—"

Stephen's eyes narrowed, and his grip on Y/n's shoulders tightened. "A mistake?" he repeated, his voice dangerously quiet. "Is that truly how you feel?"

Y/n's heart stilled as he saw a flash of something dark in the surgeon's eyes. It was only a fleeting moment, but it was enough to send a chill down his spine. Still, he needed to get these words out. 

"Yes," Y/n said softly. "We should forget it. You know, pretend it never happened."

For a long moment, Stephen didn't voice anything, gray eyes fixed on Y/n’s face. Y/n honestly didn’t know what Stephen was going to say, but he just hoped that he didn’t blow up in his face or be upset with him. Then, slowly, he released Y/n’s shoulder and took a step back, grinning.

"Alright Y/n. If that's what you want, then we will pretend that it never happened." 

The h/c-haired doctor nodded, internally sighing in relief that Stephen understood where Y/n was coming from "Thanks for being so understanding. We should both probably get to work right about now." 

Stephen offered a small smile and opened the door for Y/n, who thanked him and left the lounge. Stephen headed to his office on the fourth floor, while Y/n headed to his office on the third floor.

Booting up his computer, the h/c haired doctor pulled up his patients' files and began reviewing them, preparing for the long appointments. His first patient was a young girl named Sarah, and he took a moment to familiarize himself with her medical history before her appointment.

Exactly at nine o'clock, there was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," Y/n called out. The door opened to reveal a brown-skinned muscular man and a young girl with brown hair and brown eyes peeking out from behind him. Y/n acknowledged the man's attractiveness but shook off the thought since it wasn't appropriate.

"Good morning, Mr. Flynn. Please, come in," Y/n said, offering them a warm smile and extending his hand for him to shake, "I'm Dr. L/n, but feel free to call me Y/n."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Jesse responded, shaking Y/n’s hand and stepping inside. the office, guiding his daughter forward. "This right here is my daughter, Sarah. She's a bit shy, so please bear with her."

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," Y/n knelt down to the girl's eye level. "You can call me Y/n, too. No need for formalities." He patted on the examination table. "Take a seat here, and we can have a little chat?"

The young girl nodded silently and climbed up onto the examination table, her eyes darting around the room. Jesse took a seat in the empty chair next to his daughter as Y/n began the examination.

"Sarah, your dad explained to me on the phone last week that you've been having tummy aches lately. Can you talk to me about that?" Y/n's voice was friendly.

She twisted her hands in her lap. Then, in a small voice, she spoke, "My tummy hurts sometimes, and I don't know why."

Y/n nodded understandingly. "That must be scary. Can you tell me where it hurts? Does it hurt all the time or sometimes?"

Sarah pointed to her mid-region. "It hurts right here and it usually hurts after I eat."

"I see," Y/n murmured, making a note on her chart. "Okay, I'm going to take a look and see if I can figure out what might be causing you to have these tummy pains."

Sarah nodded, her hand reaching out for her father's hand, and Jesse held it.

Y/n proceeded to perform a gentle examination, taking care to explain each step to both Sarah and Jesse. He asked additional questions about Sarah’s diet, any recent changes in her routine, and any other symptoms she experienced.

When the exam was over, Y/n concluded that Sarah was likely experiencing some digestive issues, possibly due to a mild food intolerance. He suggested dietary changes for her and an over-the-counter prescription to help soothe her stomach.

"Thank you, Y/n," relief was present in Jesse’s voice. "We really appreciate your help. Sarah hasn't been well lately, and we wanted to make sure she was okay."

Y/n waved off the thanks. "It's my job. I'll send the prescription to your pharmacy, and you can pick it up tomorrow. Try the prescriptions for a couple of weeks, and if she shows no signs of improvements, we'll discuss further steps." He reached into his candy drawer and offered Sarah a lollipop. "And here's a lollipop for being the most amazing patient I've ever had!"

A smile appeared on Sarah’s face as she took the candy from him. "Thanks, Y/n!"

"You're welcome. It was nice meeting you and I hope that you feel better soon."

Jesse and Sarah exited the room, and Y/n began sending Sarah's prescription to her pharmacy. Just as he finished, there was another knock banging on his door.

"Come in," he called out, expecting one of the nurses or maybe his next patient.

To his surprise, it was Jesse who poked his head into the room. "Sorry to bother you, Y/n. I just realized I left my jacket here," he walked over to the chair where he was sitting and picked up the jacket.

"It's no problem at all," Y/n assured him.

Jesse slipped his arms into the sleeves of his jacket and turned toward the door. Just as he was about to exit, he paused and turned back, as if to say something.

"Listen," Jesse began. "I know this might be a bit forward, but I wanted to ask: do you have a special someone in your life?"

Y/n's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't expected this line of questioning, but he supposed it was not uncommon for patients' family members to become curious about their doctors' private lives. He wasn't sure about telling his patient's father that he likes dudes since he didn’t know his stance on same-sex couples, but something compelled him to tell him.

"Well," he chose his words thoughtfully. "to answer your question, no, there's no special someone in my life. There used to be a guy but he lost that title privilege."

Jesse nodded, taking a step closer to Y/n's desk. "Interesting. So, if I were to ask you to join me for dinner tomorrow, what are the chances that you would say yes?"

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, and he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. He had not expected this turn of events. Jesse was a handsome dude, no doubt, and seemed like a good guy. Y/n would be down for it, but the timing wasn't right.

"Oh, I'm flattered, Jesse. Truly," Y/n said sincerely, voraciously, "But to be honest, I just got out of a two-year relationship, and I'm not looking to date right now."

Jesse's face fell, but he gave a nod. "I get it. It's too bad I didn't meet you three years ago. Have a good rest of your day."

Jesse turned the doorknob and left Y/n's office. Y/n watched him go, intrigued by his forwardness. He wondered when the next time they'd see one another again.

And Y/n found his question answered by the time Valentine’s Day rolled around. However, not only did he find the answer to his question but he found a revelation as well, a scary discovery about Stephen.

As Y/n sat in his office, writing notes, he heard a knock on the door. He called out for the individual to come in, but instead received another knock. A bewildered expression crossed Y/n's face as he got up to open the door himself, only to find no one outside. However, he spotted a bouquet of roses and a box of expensive chocolates, each with a note attached.

The note attached to the roses said, "For my one true love, Y/n. I can't wait to see you again soon. -Stephen." The note on the chocolates read, "To sweeten your day, my love." There was a heart under it.

Confusion painted a portrait on his face. It seemed as though Stephen believed they were in a relationship, despite Y/n's clear indication that he wanted to forget about their one night together. Y/n knew he needed to set the record straight and speak to Stephen as soon as possible.

His opportunity came during lunchtime when he was sitting at one of the tables outside. Stephen approached and took a seat next to him without asking, greeting Y/n politely and inquiring about his day.

A forced smile appeared on Y/n's face. "It's going well, thank you. And yours?"

"Wonderful, now that I see you," Stephen replied, reaching over to take Y/n's hand in his own. "Did you get the flowers and chocolates I sent? I know you like roses."

Y/n nodded slowly. "Yes, I did, and—"

"Shh, Y/n," Stephen interrupted, pressing a finger to Y/n's lips and running it over his bottom lip. "No need to thank me. That's what good boyfriends do."

Y/n's eyes widened because what the—? Did he just hear that correctly? Stephen thought that they were— "B-Boyfriends?" 

Stephen smiled and planted a kiss on Y/n's cheek, his fingers running over Y/n's knuckles. "Yes, boyfriends. You and I, of course. Where do you want me to take you for Valentine's Day dinner tonight? I know this amazing Italian restaurant—"

"Stop," he removed Stephen's hand from his and held up his own hand. "Look, I think you've got the wrong impression. We aren't boyfriends; we're not dating."

"And why is that?" Stephen questioned, scooting closer to Y/n in his chair. "We had sex, Y/n. That makes you mine now."

At that moment, Y/n realized that something was seriously wrong with Stephen. His insistence that they were dating, despite Y/n's clear rejection, was an obvious sign of delusion. Y/n knew he had to be firm and stand his ground.

Y/n shook his head. Why wasn't Stephen getting it? "I'm not yours. At all. We only had a night together. I am not interested in pursuing anything further. I don't want to be with you. Do you understand that?"

Stephen's jaw clenched, and for a split second, Y/n saw a dangerous flash in his gray eyes. Then, Stephen pushed the table away and stormed off, muttering something about Y/n being ungrateful.

Y/n let out a sigh, feeling drained by the conversation. He hoped Stephen would finally understand and leave him alone.

But Y/n really didn’t feel like working for the rest of the day, so he took the rest of the day off and asked his secretary to reschedule his remaining patients.

As he made his way to the parking lot, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He was half expecting it to be Stephen, but he was relieved to find Jesse standing there.

"Oh, wassup, Jesse. What are you doing here? Is everything alright with Sarah?"

"Yes, she's doing much better, thanks to you. The pills you recommended worked well," he responded. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something else."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh?"

"Well, it's Valentine's Day, and I know it's a bit last minute, but I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner tonight?"

Y/n was at a loss for words. Sure, he did find himself wanting to get to know this guy better. But he hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea since there are ethical implications of dating a patient's family member. He could get in a lot of trouble.

"I appreciate the offer, Jesse, but I don't know if it's appropriate," Y/n attempted to explain. "I mean, you're Sarah’s father, I'm her doctor. It’s a conflict of interest." 

Jesse waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense. It’s only a conflict of interest if we’re dating, which we’re not. We’ll just be two people enjoying a meal together. What do you say, doc? It could be fun."

Well, when Jesse puts it like that, Y/n guess that sort of makes sense. Since they’re technically not dating, it wouldn’t cross any ethical lines in a literal manner.

Besides, his friends had Valentine's Day plans, and he was the only odd one out. Y/n was planning on spending the day in his living room and ordering some pizza.

"Well, I do enjoy a good meal and good company," the h/c-haired male agreed to the dinner. "Where did you have in mind?"

"There's this restaurant downtown that recently opened," Jesse suggested. "It's called Lepley's and it has good reviews. I've been wanting to try it. Sound good?"

"It sounds perfect. Shall we meet there? Around seven?" Y/n gave a thumbs up.

"Seven it is," Jesse confirmed.

Jesse walked back to his car, and Y/n entered his own vehicle, still processing what just happened. Momentarily, Y/n wondered what the evening would bring.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, a certain man with a goatee had watched the interaction. Stephen's gaze followed Y/n as he drove from the hospital, a dark look in his eyes.

XXXXX XXXXX

Y/n arrived at the restaurant promptly at seven, his heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and nerves. He had taken the time to dress nicely, opting for jeans and a dressy shirt. Casual yet stylish too.

As he entered the cozy establishment, he spotted Jesse sitting at a table by the window, looking around the place as the gentle music played in the background.

"Y/n, over here!" Jesse waved him over.

Y/n made his way through the bustling restaurant, feeling a pair of eyes on him as he walked. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but he forced those thoughts aside, reminding himself that this was simply a nice, friendly dinner.

No extra strings attached. 

"Hey, Jesse," Y/n greeted politely, sliding into the seat across from Jesse. "This place looks wonderful." He took another glance around the loud, crowded place. Valentine's Day made this place packed.

"It does, indeed," the man sitting across from Y/n agreed, brown eyes flickering over to the fish tank that was on display. "I've heard great things about this place." 

A waiter approached their table, handing them menus and offering them drinks. Y/n and Jesse both ordered a lemonade.

"So, what's it like being a doctor?" Jesse asked, leaning back in his seat to give Y/n all his attention. "I imagine long hours."

Y/n nodded in agreement. "Long hours for sure. It's very demanding and a lot of work, yet there's nothing more rewarding than helping patients with health issues."

"That paycheck must be very rewarding too," he said. "With that salary, you get to live in a big house and drive a fancy car."

The waiter returned with their drinks and took out his notepad, asking them what they wanted to order. Jesse ordered a steak with a side of mac and cheese, and broccoli cheese casserole. Y/n then ordered a simple cheeseburger and fries. The waiter said their meals would arrive shortly as he took their menus and left the two alone.

Y/n took a sip from his lemonade before answering Jesse’s remark. "Well, believe it or not, I don’t live in a big house. I live in a small apartment. However, I plan on upgrading to a house once my student loans are fully paid off, which should be real soon. I also plan on keeping my Chrysler. I’ve never been much of a big spender; I like the financial stability that comes with being a doctor. But enough about me. What do you do for a living?"

Jesse explained that he works in the finance department of Stark Industries. He analyzes investments and monitors the company’s financial performance. That was simply remarkable, especially to work for such a renowned company.

Soon, their food arrived, and they dug in, the conversation flowing easily between them. They talked about their hobbies and even shared embarrassing stories from their childhood, laughing together.

As the evening progressed, Y/n relaxed, enjoying the time he shared with Jesse. It had been a very long time since he'd connected with someone so effortlessly, and Y/n found himself hoping that this wouldn't be the last time they met up.

Y/n and Jesse ordered a rich chocolate soufflé to go and decided to split the bill, both insisting on contributing. As they walked out of Lepley's, they realized that their cars were parked on opposite sides of the lot. Jesse's eyes wandered to Y/n.

"Well, I think it's time we call it a night. Thank you for having dinner with me."

Y/n smiled. "Thank you for inviting me. It was definitely better than spending this day alone with a box of pepperoni pizza."

Jesse nodded, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Happy Valentine's Day, Y/n."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jesse," he said.

And then, the two men parted ways. As Y/n walked to his car, he felt a sense of content. He was glad he had gone out tonight, and he could say that thoughts of his ex-boyfriend were no longer at the forefront of his mind. Despite the rocky start to his day with Stephen, the night with Jesse had ended on a good note.

Or so he thought.

Y/n had just unlocked his car door when he felt a hand cover his mouth and pull him backward. Startled, he tried to push his assailant off, but the person wouldn't let go, keeping a tight grip on him. He was dragged into an alley, and the arms around him finally released their grip. Y/n scrambled forward and turned to see who the fuck had dragged him in there.

And it was Stephen. Fucking. Strange.

"What the fuck Stephen?!" Y/n shouted, his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Stephen remained silent, staring at Y/n angrily. He was pissed. Before Y/n could react, Stephen pushed him up against the wall, his hand wrapping around Y/n's throat, squeezing the sensitive area a bit.

The dark-haired doctor leaned in close, their noses almost touching. "Who was that guy you were having dinner with?"

"I... I was just hanging out with a friend."

"A friend?" Stephen's lip curled. "Is that what you call it? I saw the way you were looking at him. I won't tolerate cheating."

"You can't cheat on someone when you're not together, which we aren't!" Y/n felt drained by this entire situation. This dude was crazy and needs serious help.

"Oh, we’re together. Always," Stephen pressed his body against Y/n's and dry-humped him from the front. "and forever." Stephen then pressed his lips to Y/n’s. The kiss was aggressive, almost violent, and Y/n tried to pull away, but Stephen held him in place, his hand leaving Y/n's throat to grip his jaw. "You always did like it rough," he murmured against his mouth before pulling away with a grin.

But the grin soon faded as Y/n's foot connected with Stephen's groin, causing him to double over in pain and drop to the ground. Y/n seized the opportunity to run back to his car and drive away, his hands shaking on the steering wheel. As he turned off his car engine, entered his apartment, and dropped his keys on the table, Y/n's hands were still trembling.

This was the last straw for Y/n.

Tomorrow morning, Y/n is filing a report with Human Resources and if that didn't resolve the situation, he would consider transferring to a different department. This kind of behavior cannot continue.

XXXXX XXXXX

Y/n was up early the next morning, determined to meet up with HR before his shift started. He was going to put an end to this situation with Stephen once and for all. It was clear that Stephen had developed an unhealthy obsession with him, and the h/c-haired male refused to put himself in more situations like this.

After a shower and a cup of coffee, Y/n dressed in a sharp suit, ready to face the confrontation head-on. He was aware that presenting himself confidently and assertively would be important to being taken seriously. As he finished tying his tie, the news played in the background — something he usually ignored while getting ready for work. But this time, Y/n turned the volume up and his eyes were wide with shock at the reporter's words.

A picture of Stephen appeared on the screen, and the reporter explained that Strange had been involved in a major car crash, his vehicle flying off the road and crashing into a nearby riverbank. He had died from the accident last night.

Stephen was dead.

A mixture of emotions washed over Y/n, but the predominant feeling was... relief. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with Stephen or his antics anymore, and he could go to work without always worrying about being harassed. A smile crept onto Y/n's features as he shut off the TV with a click of the remote. He no longer had to worry about talking to HR.

Today was going to be a great day at work. In fact, it turned out to be his best.

As the months passed, Y/n's life only improved. He finally finished paying off his student loans and upgraded to a four-bedroom house, ecstatic to move out of the city and away from the constant chaos that seemed to surround his old apartment building. He received a salary raise at work, took a vacation, and even adopted a golden retriever named Max to share his new home with. His life was great, and he's going to keep it like that.

Y/n was now sitting on his couch in the living room, channel surfing as his dog snoozed by his side. A huge storm raged outside, with lightning flashing, thunder rumbling, and rain pouring down. He had just found a channel to settle on when the lights flickered and the TV shut off.

"Damn this storm," Y/n muttered.

With a sigh, the man grabbed his phone and headed toward the basement. When he reached the circuit breaker, he flipped the switch, and his lights came back on.

Y/n returned upstairs, but he felt too tired to stay up any longer. He had been dozing off before the lights went out, so he decided to go to bed. After changing into his pajamas, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and let out a small scream. Stephen Strange was standing behind him, a smirk tainting his features. But when Y/n turned, no one was there.

He looked around the room, ensuring that no one was in his house, and shook his head, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him. Stephen was dead; there was no way he could be standing here. It had to be his imagination or something.

With that thought, Y/n got underneath the covers and closed his eyes tightly. The sound of rain always helped him fall asleep faster. He entered the first stage, the twilight stage, when the man heard a weird noise that he couldn't describe. He opened his eyes to see an orange portal materializing on his bed. And he backed away very fast. What the hell was that? Just then, he was sucked into the portal, only to find himself... back in his room?

Y/n blinked. He realized that he was, indeed, back in his own bedroom, but something felt off. How had he fallen through some sort of portal in his room, only to end up back in the same place?

"Leave it to you to make pajamas look sexy, Y/n," a familiar voice commented.

The h/c-haired male stilled, recognizing the voice. No, no, no, that can't be right.

But, sure enough, when Y/n turned, there stood Stephen Strange. He was alive...? And wearing some sort of cloak.

"W-What are you doing here? They said you died in the car crash," he stammered.

Stephen threw his head back in laughter as if that idea was totally preposterous. "Well, technically, I did die in the crash, I was saved, thanks to surgery. I went to Kamar-Taj, became a wizard, and all that good stuff. The Sorcerer Supreme here."

Y/n couldn't believe this. How had this guy managed to do bad shit and become a wizard? It seemed unfair. Y/n tried to take a step back, wanting to put more distance between them, but Stephen held up his hand, and Y/n's lower body froze. He couldn't move the lower half of his body — no matter how hard he tried.

"What the hell did you do to me?" Y/n tried to run but, once more, couldn't do it.

"Just something to ensure you don't run off on me," Stephen explained, walking towards Y/n until he was standing right in front of him, eyes glancing at Y/n lips. "You know, I've missed the taste of you."

Before he could speak, Stephen's mouth captured his in a fierce, possessive kiss. Y/n couldn't move his lower body, but he could still move his face, so he turned his head to the side. Stephen gripped his jaw, forcing Y/n to maintain eye contact, and continued his relentless, demanding kiss. Finally, Stephen pulled away, his breathing ragged. "Tell me you love me," he whispered, cupping Y/n's face in his hands, his thumbs stroking Y/n's cheeks.

Y/n shook his head, his breath coming in short gasps, "I hate you so much, man."

The wizard paused, his eyes darkening. "You hate me?" he repeated slowly, his voice low and dangerous. And he looked furious, pissed. With a wave of his hand, Y/n was thrown on the bed and landed with a thud. Stephen climbed on top of him, pinning his arms against the bed. "You hate me after everything I've done for you? After everything I've given you?"

"Yes, I do," Y/n breathed out truthfully. "Because you're fucking crazy, Stephen."

"Now, that’s one thing we can agree on," Stephen released his right hand to run his finger over Y/n’s jawline. "I’m crazy for you, and you are going to love me."

Then, something weird began happening to Y/n. Longing and desire engulfed him, his thoughts filling with images of the person he hated most. No matter how hard he tried to think of someone else, his thoughts kept returning to Stephen.

"What," Y/n shook his head as if he was trying to shake whatever was happening to him off. "What did you do to me?" His vision was starting to become blurry.

"Rest now, my love. We'll talk later,"

Y/n soon slipped into unconsciousness, his mind clouded with confusion and a growing sense of unease for the future.

Stephen smiled as he watched Y/n fall into a deep sleep, his breath evening out. He moved to place Y/n's head in his lap, gently stroking his hair. Even asleep, Y/n looked good, just as he was that night.

The Sorcerer Supreme's thoughts drifted back to that fateful night with Y/n, the night that had changed everything. He remembered the way Y/n had looked at him across the crowded bar, their eyes locking briefly before Y/n quickly looked away, taking another sip from his drink. Stephen had known in that instant that Y/n was interested, and their amazing night together had only confirmed his theory—they were meant to be together. That night was literal proof of their love.

When Stephen had woken up the next morning to find Y/n gone, he had been confused about his whereabouts. But he had shrugged it off, absolutely certain that he would see his lover again soon.

And when he saw Y/n in the lounge, he couldn't resist coming up behind him and kissing his neck. God, Y/n's skin had felt so good against his lips, and he had the sudden urge to take Y/n right then and there. But Y/n had surprised him by saying that their night together had been a mistake. There was no way that night could've been a mistake. It was perfect.

Stephen knew that Y/n was only saying that because he was scared — scared of getting into another relationship. And that was okay. Stephen would give him the space he needed because he knew that deep down, Y/n felt the same way.

So, he had given him space, settling for watching him like a hawk from afar. But when Valentine's Day rolled around, the best holiday for couples, Stephen knew it was the perfect opportunity to spend some time together. Y/n had more than enough time to get over that stupid ex, and now it was their time to be together.

Stephen had also decided to get Y/n some generic Valentine's Day gifts, chocolates, and flowers, and planned to take him to a fancy restaurant in the city. But once again, Y/n didn't want to go out with him, which was starting to piss him off. After all, they were boyfriends after their night together, so why did Y/n keep insisting that they weren't? It's annoying.

However, what was even more annoying was discovering that Y/n was going on a date with someone else. Someone who wasn't him. Stephen's blood had boiled with unruly anger. How dare he cheat on him like this? He wouldn't stand for it.

The surgeon hadn't thought twice before he pulled Y/n into an alley after his date and scolded the man for cheating. Y/n was clearly playing hard to get, wanting to make him jealous, and it was working. Stephen was going to show Y/n exactly who he belonged to, which had resulted in a kick to the groin. That had been painful, but he had recovered quickly and hopped into his car to follow Y/n. He wouldn't let Y/n escape his grasp.

That's when he got into a car accident and died briefly during surgery before being brought back to life. He was then taken to Kamar-Taj, where Stephen had become the Sorcerer Supreme and the Master of the Mystic Arts. Pretty cool.

Throughout his time there, one person remained at the forefront of his mind.

Y/n.

Stephen had also realized that his love for Y/n was still strong, and he knew that Y/n loved him as well, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. Now that he was a wizard, he was going to use his abilities to bring Y/n to his new home.

And that's exactly what he did.

Stephen brought Y/n to his new home near the Sanctum, using magic to make the inside of the home identical to Y/n's old room. He knew that Y/n would love him for the time and effort he put into making sure everything was just right.

Once again, Y/n surprised him by saying that he hated him, which frustrated him.

Was it that hard for Y/n to accept their love? Well, if he wanted to be stubborn, Stephen would have to make him see it. He cast a spell, a love spell, to ensure Y/n's devotion. It was his way of making Y/n see the truth — they belonged together.

Y/n woke up sometime later, yawning. His eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was Stephen, sitting next to him.

"Are you okay, my love?" Stephen asked, fingers tracing patterns on Y/n's cheek.

Y/n smiled lovingly at Stephen, his pearly white teeth flashing. "Of course, I'm okay. I get to wake up every day next to you, handsome." He moved forward and wrapped his arms around Stephen's neck, pulling him into a nice, loving hug.

Stephen's smile was victorious, and he melted into the embrace, his arms coming around to possessively wrap around Y/n's waist. Y/n was finally his, and he had finally admitted that he loved Stephen as much as Stephen loved him.

He knew that some might call him obsessive or even delusional, but he didn't care. He did nothing but help Y/n see the truth. In his eyes, Y/n was his and his alone. He would do whatever it took to keep it that way, no matter what. After all, what’s life without a little danger?

XXXXX XXXXX

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE TONY STARK X READER X YANDERE STEPHEN STRANGE

Get ready to be completely spoiled rotten and doted on 24/7/ 365 by these 2 since they will literally smother you with affection and love day in and day out

Very clever and crafty yanderes, quite a pair I tell you. And also literally impossible to escape from since they have science AND magic on their side. So, good luck escaping from them

Both of them don't have too much patience but I can see Tony being a tad bit more patient that Strange. No matter if you're a villain, Avenger, SHILED or HYDRA agent or even a civilian for that matter once you catch their attention you're dunzo

They'll take care of any pest in the way of you and them in less than 24 hours. These men here are not playing around when they tell you that crazy for you and they're madly in love with you

You won't be able to escape from them, ever since they've rigged the house with cameras in places you didn't even think or know that they could be there (No worries at least nothing's in the bathroom) and Strange's magic will prevent you from escaping. Now, if you act up with Tony, he'll just take your favorite stuff away and scold you like a disappointed dad. Now if Strange catches you acting up.... well, you'll be needing your running shoes and run as far as you can from him. That's all

Tony is kinda more lenient and laid back than Strange that's for sure. He'll let you get away with stuff and will lay it easy on you when you do some nutty stuff. Strange on the other hand takes discipline very seriously. As much as he loves, adores and cares for you he will NOT tolerate bad behavior from you at all. Even if his heart breaks and he feels like someone's stabbing him with a blade through his chest, he will make sure you behave like a good little girl/ boy for them

Tony can be a bit... over smothering at times which is why Stephen will drag him off of you anytime you want to be left alone or you need some space

Just play your cards right and assure them that you'll never leave them and you're good to go :)

[nemesis-writer]

[Unwanted Ransom(Chapter 3)]

Masquerade

TW- None, for now... Age- 18

Masterlist

Dress

HEADLINES TODAY!!!! (CNN)

THE STARKS AND THEIR TWO DAUGHTERS ARE GOING TO THE AUCTION.

HEADLINES TODAY!!!! (Gotham News)

THE WAYNES ARE GOING TO THE AUCTION.

"UGH, why are we going to the auction." I yelled, I always hated wearing dresses, I never knew why, I felt comfortable in a suit.

"Honey, it's an annual event we have to." Pepper rebutted.

"But mom!" I sighed.

"I said no." She replied, I could feel the daggers in her eyes.

"Ugh. Fine." I muttered. I mean the dress is cute, but not something I'd wanna wear all the time. So far, the only reason I'm wearing it is because of this stupid event.

At the party...

The auction is overflowing with journalists and newscasters.

"Mr Stark are you going to make another generous donation again?"

"Ms Jennifer, Ms Morgan, look at the camera"

"Ms Jennifer is it true you were part of the Wayne family before?"

By the time I heard that question all I could muster out was, "No, I was a Pennyworth then a Stark. I have no part of this scandal you accuse me of."

I am to be called a Pennyworth, Amala, or a Stark. But I will never be addressed as a Wayne.

"Uhm dad, can I go out for now, I can't breathe." I asked.

He looked at me and said, "Sure honey don't take too long."

At the balcony...

I decided to bring out my phone and text my friends.

Jen- P, you there?

Spidey- Yep I'm here, how is the auction so far?

Jen- I mean it's alright, I am donating $5,000,000 for the Paris trip

D.P- Can I come? We can do a Ménage à trois

Jen, Spidey- NO!!!

I giggled a bit then turned off my phone.

"Watcha readin there?"

I gasped then turned around. It was him...

2 years ago...

Alright so let's take a little recap here...

I was like 16 and I'm in my 5th year of law, that's when I met him. He is taking political business.. We bumped into each other at the hallway when we were heading for the library.

He is brunette with dark eyes that could see through your soul if you look at them too long. He has a boyish charm in him, and I thought to myself, there is no way he is single.

"I'm so sorry" I stuttered, I tried picking up my books. But, he went down faster and gave them to me.

"I'm uh kinda new here, I just transfered from Dartmouth." He explained.

"Oh that's great what brings you here?" I wondered, I actually got a bit frightened because I didn't want him to look at me the wrong way.

"My girlfriend is here and uh my dad is kind of a pezzonovante" He explained.

"Immagino che tu sia italiano?"(You're Italian I presume.) I asked.

"Si." (Yes) He said.

"Well I can tell you lived here your whole life." I said.

"Yeah."

Of course he's got a girlfriend, him being single, is like me being a Wayne...

Ha! The irony.

So anyways, his girlfriend is planning to become a biologist or some shit like that... Ugh, all the hot guys are taken, I wish I could be them.

Present

But remember, that was two years ago, I realised that they were just fwb and he broke it off. He has a dorm next to mine and Katherine's oh yeh I forgot to mention, Katherine.

She is like the closest thing I got to a big sister, Morgan is my baby sister so no problem with that part.

Anyway we are getting off fetch here...

"Good to see you." He said.

"I didn't expect to see you here in all places." I replied

"Well sweetheart, I never expected a pretty girl like you to be here of all places." He replied.

"Guess I've been getting unwanted attention." I rebutted.

"Per cosa stai offrendo all'asta?"(What are you bidding for in this silent auction?) He asked, gosh I could see the ghost of a smirk on him.

"Un viaggio a Parigi." (A trip to Paris.) I said.

"You want me to come with you there, I've been to many places so I can show you around." He said.

"No, you don't have to." I replied

"If you don't want me there then say so." He smirked.

"It's just that I want to go solo for now." I revealed.

"Ok, well sweetheart, just give me a call if you need me."

"I will." I said as I went back inside.

The bids were being made...

"The winner of the yacht made a donation of 18 whopping thousand dollars. This bid is made by the Mr Bowmont in table 47."

"The next one is the winner of the Paris trip, sold to the lady in red, Ms Jennifer Stark! Her bid is 5 million dollars" I stood up and bowed my head a bit.

"We have a final one for the blade holding the gems of the Orient, and it goes to..."

The crowd waited in expectation...

"MR BRUCE WAYNE WITH AN OUTSTANDING 3 MILLION DOLLARS!"

Bruce...

Bruce...

Wayne!?

I didn't realise how strong I was holding my Scotch till the glass broke. Luckily everyone is clapping so they wouldn't notice the blood starting to drip from the shards of glass.

"Jen come on let's get out of here." Pepper stated, getting her phone to call our bodyguards.

I grabbed another glass of scotch then downed it due to stress. We quickly ran outside, but then we were bombarded with so much interviewers that I didn't notice someone was following me.

Until I heard something...

"Xerxes?"

I started to lose conciousness, shades of black and red covered my eyes. It continued until the darkness embraced me.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

it will come back.

"i warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born, you'll hear me howling at your door..." - hozier, it will come back

pairing: yandere!bucky barnes x reader c.w.: dark!bucky (he definitely does some questionable things, but nothing graphic)

a.n. - it's official, i've become addicted to lower case fics. they're just so much fun. they've got a vibe, you know? anyway, this is my first attempt at a darker bucky, so i hope you enjoy!

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

this is your fault. it’s all your fault.

you know better, or at least, you should have known better.

what else could you expect from a man like him? a man robbed of his humanity for so long. a man so close to ferality. that's who he is in all matters of you, a man more beast than human, no better than an animal when it came to you.

that’s how you should’ve treated him. as a beast. prowling back and forth in their confinement. poised to devour any unlucky soul that got too close. so long as he was caged, you were safe.

you didn’t though. you didn’t treat him like the beast he became the moment he saw you.

maybe in another life, he could've loved you in a normal, sane way. in another life, he could give you the sweetness you deserved. in a life where he wasn't so twisted and tormented, he would have done just that. the flowers. the chocolates. the romance.

but this is love, he tells himself.

this raw, deranged, twisted, obsession.

this is his love.

he loves you.

he swears he does.

in this life, this is the only way he can show you just how much he loves you. just how far he's wiling to go to love you.

something happened to him the moment he set his sights on you. perhaps something broke. perhaps something mended. but maybe this was always who he'd been. all he knows is that heaven is not fit to house the love he has for you.

it didn't matter. the moment he set his sights upon you, you were doomed.

he wanted to scream, to bellow a warning to stay as far away from him as possible.

he stayed silent during that first meeting. his jaw tense, spine straight as an arrow, fists clenched so tight he was sure there would be indents in the metal of his vibranium palm.

"it was nice to meet you, sergeant barnes." you made a point to place yourself in his line of sight, forcing him to look at you in those bright, wide eyes. "i look forward to working with you."

that was your first mistake. he had the strength to stay away. to resist the feeling creeping up his spine. but you just kept rattling his cage. calling out to him with your siren song.

"bucky," you rest your hand on his shoulder. you're trying to soothe him. you don't realize it's a kindness neither you nor him could afford. "it's alright."

he stiffens, that's the first time you've ever touched him. it's the first time he's ever heard his name fall from your lips. not sergeant, not sir, but his name.

his chest heaves, rising and falling as he tries to control himself. you think it's just the adrenaline of the mission. you don't have any idea how overwhelmed he is by your presence.

it's your own kindness that was your undoing, that was his unraveling. years of discipline, years of training, years of strength gone with a touch.

if he didn't love you so much, he'd hate you.

from that moment on, it all spiraled. he spiraled.

he wasn't a patient man, not by any stretch of the imagination. but for you, he'd wait. for you, he'd bide his time.

first, he watches. he watches and look for ways to insert himself into your life. it was almost too easy. for a shield agent, you were careless. doors unlocked. blissfully unaware of your surroundings on long, morning runs. you barely realized how he'd slithered his way onto your missions.

it helped you were vying for his approval, for his adoration. you didn't know that you had it from the moment he saw you. he started slow. inserting himself into your daily routine. a simple good morning. a good night. passing by you in the corridor, always offering a quick grin. he listened to you. to your ideas. your wants. your little anecdotes.

soon, you were close enough to invite him into your apartment. if only you knew that he'd seen it before.

"bucky, we're friends, right?"

he gritted his teeth. friends. no. you weren't friends. you were the love of his life. you were everything he had ever wanted, everything he would ever want. you were the center of his universe. he couldn't tell you that. not yet. "yeah. why do you ask?"

"i just wanted your opinion on this guy."

"a guy?" his voice is so clipped, so gruff, he's shocked you can't hear his teeth grinding together. his fists clench. can't you feel the rage rolling off of him?

"yeah, this agent," you sigh. "he keeps asking me out. i keep trying to let him down easy, but he's not taking the hint."

"oh."

your eyebrows furrow. he almost smiles to himself. you're so aware of him, of what he does or doesn't do. you're worried you upset him. you're worried you shouldn't have told him. he likes that you're this concerned about what he thinks. "should i - i'm sorry i shouldn't have said that to you."

he places his hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. "no, i'm glad you told me."

it was too easy for him to swipe your phone when you weren't looking. too easy for him to find out which agent dared to try to take you from him.

and it was even easier to get the agent paired with bucky on a field mission. just the two of them. overseas in an unfamiliar country. there were just so many things that could go wrong.

he was respected in the avenger's compound. and in this moment, he's glad he put in the work to earn that respect. he didn't think they'd respect him so much if they knew how easy it was for him to sabotage that agent. he couldn't kill the guy, but if a gun shot to the leg wasn't enough of a warning, there were other ways to get him off your back.

all of this was your fault. you opened the cage, whether you knew it or not. you pushed him to this. you showed him the warmth of your doorways.

you could've left him alone. left him to the land. left him to the cold that he knows from the depth of his bones. you should never have let him taste your warmth. you shouldn't have uttered a single word to him, not when he's sat in silence for so long, not when the sound of your honey sweet voice in enough to feed his hungry soul.

you can't show warmth to someone stone cold.

you can't feed someone starved for decades.

you can't show mercy to someone used to the harsh, unyielding world.

you should never have let him in unless you planned on keeping him.

or he'll come back.

"bucky," you pant, running to bucky's room after hearing about his disastrous mission. "i heard - i heard things went wrong on that mission. i thought you were -"

"i'm okay. don't worry." he tries to bite back the smile at the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you were worried about him.

your words come out in short bursts. "i just - the guy - he's the one i told you about - i heard he was shot - and - and that you were on the mission with him-"

"that was the guy who wouldn't leave you alone?" there's an intentional lilt to his voice. of course he knew. but he didn't want to give away just how much he knew. you weren't ready for that. "he's okay, if that's what you're worried about."

"i was worried about you." your eyes lift to his, shining with tears, with admiration. you were so close to putting the final nail in your coffin. "i was so worried about you."

he should tell you to run. the lion should never live with the lamb. if only you'd left him to the land.

"i'm okay. i promise."

run, he silently warns you.

run.

run.

"i just- " your frantic eyes find his again. you don't say another word. you lunge forward, planting your warm hand on the side of his face. your lips meet his in a frenzy.

too late.

it was far, far too late. it was too easy for him to become addicted to your presence. how easy you are for him to need. how easy you are for him to crave.

he'll always come back for more. he'll never be satisfied. he lived deprived for so long.

you should've know the reason they locked him away and threw away the key. he's a greedy beast.

and he's decided, he can't live with a taste. not anymore.

"i just want to talk to you," the agent pleads with you. he follows you down the hallway, still limping on his leg after that gun shot. "just hear me out."

"look," you sigh, stopping for a moment out of pity. "i'm sorry you got hurt, but i've already told you, i'm not interested."

"you're not interested in me, but you're interested in the maniac that had me shot?"

your eyes widen at the accusation. "you're lying. and don't - don't talk about bucky like that."

"i just thought you should know what kind of man you're falling into bed with."

"you're just jealous." you're about to turn on your heels when he grips your bicep forcing you back around. he squeezes tightly, forcing you to stay in place. you look down at the white knuckled grip, "you're hurting me."

"he told me that i should be more careful next time. that next time it wouldn't be in the leg. you should ask him about it."

you wrench your arm from his hold. "stay away the hell from me."

you felt guilty about your reaction. even guiltier when he turned up dead just days later. the details of that assignment were so fuzzy. even an entire investigation turned up nothing.

"i can't believe he's gone," you softly cry into bucky's shoulder. "we were friends for so long, you know?"

"i'm so sorry, that can't be easy for you," bucky coos at you.

"i don't what happened. he was acting so strange the last few months and then we got into that fight. i said terrible things to him."

"you got into a fight?"

"he said some things. about you. about us."

"about me?"

"yeah." you nod, tears still stinging your eyes, but offering no other details of that argument. you didn't want to upset bucky with those strange accusations. "these last few months, he was like a different person. he wasn't the friend i knew. i'm sorry, i know i'm rambling at you. i just - i don't know how to feel."

"you don't have to be sorry," bucky promises, he strokes your back up and down, following the curve of your spine. "i understand."

"thank you." you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. "you're being so sweet to me."

"i would do anything for you."

you're not sure what it is. the inflection of his voice. the way the words fall from his lips without pause. or the intensity with which they ring in your ears. you freeze, peeling yourself out of his embrace. your heart hammers against your chest, the blood pumping faster and faster.

you look up and, for the first time, you get a glimpse of it. those blue eyes are almost unrecognizable. that vibrant blue is gone, replaced by something much darker. almost lupine. feral.

it was the first time you ever flinched away from him. you stumbled back, afraid of him.

if you didn't know better then, you certainly did now.

but it's too late for you. he's supposed to unlearn the warmth of your skin, the taste of your lips? he's supposed to let you go? just like that?

no. not a chance in hell.

he doesn't know why you can't see it. can't you see that blood that stained his hand was for you? that agent will never lay another hand on you. you'll never wince under his grip again. he'll never plant seeds of doubt in your head ever again. you're safe. here. in his arms.

you sent him away that night. but he doesn't care. it doesn't matter. he'll always find his way back to you.

he'll always come back.

can’t you hear him just outside your door?

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

a.n. this is my first attempt at writing a yandere fic, so let me know what you think! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a@weallhaveadestiny@mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064@michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73@withyoutilltheendoftheline@the-photo-hoe @rae-nna@sarachabeans1

[nosyp]

Unwilling Devotion

Chapter 2 - The Captive's Resolve

Warning = Dark, captivity, toxic partners

Pairing = Dark! Avengers x reader

Summary = Captured by the Avengers, the reader fights to understand why they’re being kept hostage and plots their escape. Their defiance grows as their situation worsens and they escape. Or do they?

Word count = 4.2k words

A/N = I was planning to abandon this work but nvm… warning : dark stuff, captivity, kidnapping. As usual, the story is prone to changes (can completely be changed &/or rewritten) :P

AO3 Link

Series masterlist

Read story👇

The car ride was a blur. You couldn’t remember anything except being sandwiched between a teenage boy and some random guy with a robot arm.

While you were stuck in the middle row, Natasha sat calmly in the front with another guy. You had no idea who was driving, but you hated it. Their driving was absolute chaos. Every ten seconds, they slammed on the brakes, jolting everyone in the car forward. As if that wasn’t enough, they honked constantly, targeting anything on wheels that dared to exist.

When the car finally stopped, you swore you could see the heavens. Anything was better than being stuck in that death trap. Relief, however, was fleeting. You were dragged out without a second thought.

The sky was a gradient from blue to orange, the orange coming from the sunrise. The sight in front of you made your blood run cold. A small, brightly lit building stood hidden among the array of trees, its glow casting an eerie light through the forest.

“This’ll be your new home for a while,” Natasha said, gesturing toward the building. Her tone was calm, almost too calm.

You squirmed in their grip, but it was no use. They dragged you forward, ignoring your protests as if they didn’t matter.

“Stop it,” Tony snapped, no ounce of patience evident in his voice.

“Fuck you,” you shot back.

“You might wanna stop that before we cut your tongue off,” the metal-armed guy said with an unnerving nonchalance.

“Bucky,” Steve interrupted. “We’re not doing that here.”

Bucky shrugged, unimpressed. “Whatever, Steve.” He slightly rolled his eyes, but if you squinted, you could probably see a faint smirk.

Oh. So that’s their names, Steve and Bucky.

You couldn’t deny the building was unnervingly clean, despite being in the middle of nowhere. As your eyes darted around, your mind raced with thoughts of escape. Of course, they’d added every precaution imaginable. From fingerprint scanners to lock and unlock doors and cameras to motion sensors in almost every room. Key word: almost.

The bathroom was the only exception.

That realization sparked a flicker of hope. A way out. An escape. You immediately looked around the bathroom to take note of everything in it. A window, great. Unsurprisingly, the window had a lock on it and it was foggy. Luckily, the window was locked with a key, not with a body part. That’s good.

“Y/N!” someone called out.

Wait. How the hell did they know your name?

You spun around, heart pounding in your chest. It was the driver from earlier. You recognized him from social media, everywhere actually. He was part of the Stark family, though you couldn’t recall exactly which one.

You gritted your teeth, weighing your options. Then you decided to take a gamble. “Hey… Tony…?” you greeted, your tone unsure.

Calling your captor by his name wasn’t exactly what you had planned. And honestly, you weren’t even sure if it was his name.

“Hey Y/N,” he greets you back. “We’re about to have breakfast, come down in 5 minutes.”

Quietly, you nodded your head as a response and waited till he went away. You saw as he walked away and disappeared from your line of sight. Once you saw no sign of him, you straight away went back to looking through the bathroom. It was located on the second floor, right at the end of the hallway. The house was surprisingly big despite the small exterior. 

Realising the time, you got back up and dusted yourself off. Hurriedly, you went down into the kitchen for breakfast. 

“Y/N! Oh my poor mortal,” a voice bursted through the room. 

Your head turned to the source and saw a man with long hair. 

“Come sit next to me,” he said, patting the seat next to him.

You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to look around the room. There were a couple unfamiliar faces, like the red-haired woman extending her arm to grab something from the cabinet. You assumed it was Natasha at first but the second she turned around, you were proven wrong, she was much taller. 

“Oh gosh, don’t make her sit next to you Thor,” a voice suddenly said, interrupting your train of thought. You looked towards the person, eyes interlocking with his. Emerald eyes looking into yours, it felt eerie. His stare felt invasive. It felt intrusive.

“Y/N! Come here, hurry before the food gets cold,” another voice called out to you.

“Don’t rush her, Sam,” Steve interjected. 

Finally, you took a step forward, then another, before settling into a seat at the dining table. Soon, a plate of food was served in front of you and others. It was a simple breakfast: pancakes and eggs. 

You stared down at the plate and poked it with your fork. It looked… normal. Too normal, especially given the circumstances. The pancakes were fluffy and the eggs were perfectly cooked. This was the kind of breakfast you’d expect at a cozy diner, not in the middle of a forest, surrounded by people who had effectively kidnapped you.

“Eat up,” Steve said, his voice calm but you know that was an order. “You’ll need it.”

You hesitated, your fork hovering over the plate. What did he mean by that? Did they drug the food? Was this some kind of twisted game? Your mind raced with possibilities, none of them providing any comfort whatsoever.

“Relax,” Tony announced from across the table upon your wary expression. “If we wanted to kill you, we wouldn’t have gone through all that trouble.”

“Wow, that’s so reassuring,” you muttered sarcastically, earning a chuckle from Bucky.

“Smart mouth on this one,” Bucky remarked, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.

Thor, still seated next to you, clapped a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. “Do not fear, little mortal! No harm will come to you while I’m present.” His loud voice echoed through the room, and for a split second, you found yourself actually believing his words. Then he added, “Unless, of course, you give us a reason to. Which I hope you don’t.”

You felt your appetite disappear. Well that soured the mood. 

Natasha, who had been quiet until now, finally said something. “You might as well eat. Starving yourself won’t do you any good.”

Sighing, you picked up your fork and cut into the pancake. Putting your hand up, you took a small bite. Surprisingly, it tasted… normal. Too normal. You expected it to taste like drugs or some sort of poison, but there was no hint of it at all. After realising it was safe, you began eating, still keeping an eye on the others.

“Sooo, what’s the plan with her?” Sam asked, breaking the silence. He was leaning on his chair 

Steve’s expression quickly darkened and he opened his mouth. “We’re not discussing that right now.”

Your froze, your hand holding the fork paused in the air. Plan? Wait, what plan?

“Oh, come on,” Bucky chimed in. “She’s sitting right here. Don’t you think she deserves to know?”

“Bucky,” Steve warned, his voice authoritative. Oh. So it looks like he’s the bigshot.

You heard Thor shifted beside you, eyes looking between them. “Why so secretive? If there is a task, let her rise to it! I’m sure she will prove worthy.”

Natasha snorted, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “optimist.”

Before you could even open your mouth, Tony cleared his throat and started talking. “Alright, that’s enough chit-chat. Y/N, finish up. You’ve got a big day ahead.”

All of a sudden, the room fell silent, all eyes on you for some reason. Your heart pounded in your chest, as you processed the weight of their gazes.

“What’s happening today?” you asked, your voice barely able to be heard. 

A grin tugged at Tony’s mouth. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

You let out a loud sigh before going back to eating. If you were being honest, the food was actually good. Whoever made it definitely made it with a lot of… skill. 

"I’m Clint," he introduced himself, pulling the chair to sit down.

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. "Hi…?"

Clint leaned back in his chair. "No need to be all scared like that. I only have good intentions. I promise," His eyes flickered over to Natasha, signalling her to do something.

You weren’t sure how to respond. The way Clint spoke made you skeptical, there was something off about it. Maybe he was trying to get on your good side, or maybe it was just his way of manipulation. You couldn’t quite figure it out yet.

"How long am I supposed to stay here?" You asked the question before you could stop yourself.

"As long as it takes." He states, giving no further explanation, and you didn’t press further. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answer.

"Don’t worry, we’re not your enemies," Sam chimed in, voice gentle as he slid into a seat beside you. "We just need you to cooperate now."

"Cooperate with what exactly?" You questioned.

Sam raised his hands in mock surrender. "We’re not trying to play some game with you, Y/N. You’re here because there’s a lot going on, and we’re trying to keep you safe."

"Safe? Is this some kind of… joke? This isn’t funny," Your words were sharp now, frustration bubbling to the surface. You could feel the walls closing in, the confinement of it all pressing down on your chest.

"Y/N…" Steve’s voice was steady, but it held an edge of warning. He was the only one who hadn’t said much, and his quiet presence was starting to make you feel uneasy. "Let’s just finish breakfast. We can talk about this later."

“I’ve finished. A long time ago.” you responded. 

“Oh… Uhm…” Steve muttered. 

"Alright, here's the deal," Steve finally spoke, his voice breaking the stillness. "You’re not going anywhere unless you follow the rules."

You raised an eyebrow, your gaze shifting from Steve to the others. "Rules? What kind of rules?"

Bucky leaned back in his chair, his metal arm gleaming slightly in the light. "The kind that keeps you alive," he said, his tone dark and serious.

"First rule," Tony added, his voice sharp. "No running off or any funny business. If you try to leave, we’ll stop you. And we’ll make it clear why you shouldn’t."

You swallowed, but said nothing, keeping your focus on them.

"Second," Natasha cut in, her eyes scanning the room. "don’t talk to anyone else unless. You can only contact us. No one else."

"Third," Sam chimed in, his voice almost like a warning, "you play by the rules here, or we’ll make sure you regret it."

“Fourth,” Steve started. “You always bring one of us when you go anywhere.”

Your stomach twisted as they all seemed to be in agreement. Listening to the rules, the weight of it pressed down on you, and you realized just how little power you had in the situation.

"So, what? You’re gonna keep me here like a prisoner? Treat me like a prisoner too?" you asked, your voice starting to break. “Why are you eve-even doing this?” 

Tears were welling up in your eyes, and blood rushed to your face, the heat of humiliation and anger burning against your skin. Every inch of your body screamed for you to escape, but there was nowhere to run, no one to scream to. This was your reality now, locked in this strange house with strange people who seemed more like enemies than anything else.

Your hands trembled as you wiped away the first tear, but the more you fought it, the more they seemed to come. You hated how weak it made you feel. "Why?" you repeated, voice quieter now, a mixture of desperation and confusion lacing your words.

The silence went on, the air feeling thick.

One of them, the taller figure you hadn’t seen yet, stepped forward, his gaze unreadable. “It’s not about what you want,” he said, the coldness in his tone making your heart skip a beat. “It’s about what you need. And you’ll understand that... eventually.”

His words were like a slap, it hurt. Something darker, like a promise. It wasn’t about freedom or choice, but about you belonging to them. But why?

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling destroyed. “I don’t want to belong to you. I don’t want to belong to anyone,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

A small chuckle came from the corner of the room. You turned your head to see Clint, smiling like he just won the lottery. 

“Too bad,” he said, his eyes glinting with something twisted. “You’re already ours.”

“How? This is human trafficking, I could sue you for this. Lock you up forever,” you said angrily. 

Tony stood up after hearing your words. “Oh honey, don’t you know who we are?” he said, his tone condescending. 

You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the anger bubbling up inside you. "I don’t care who you are. This is wrong, and you can't just do this to people."

Tony's smirk widened, almost like he was enjoying your frustration. "You really think you can do something about it? You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. There’s no one to save you here."

Your heart pounded in your chest. "I’ll find a way out," you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to him.

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” Tony said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But the question is, will you be able to put us in jail? No one would believe you. I mean who would they choose? A group of vigilantes or… a random person?”

His words cut through you like a knife, but you refused to back down. You wouldn’t let them break you. You couldn’t.

“Gosh you all are disgusting! Why me anyway?” you asked. 

Clint’s grin never left as he stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity. "Why not you?" he replied smoothly, voice dripping with venom. "You're the perfect fit. Feisty, but vulnerable. You’ll be a nice... addition to our collection."

Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You really think you matter that much? We could've picked anyone. But you're here now, and that’s all that matters."

“I’m not a thing,” you spat, voice trembling with both fear and defiance. “I’m a person. You’ll regret this.”

Clint chuckled again, shaking his head. "Oh, honey, we don’t regret things like this. Not when they’re exactly what we want."

Tony’s cold gaze moved back to Clint, as if silently communicating something between them, before he turned back to you. "The question is... what will you do when you realize there's no way out? You’ll have no choice but to accept it."

"We'll see about that." you said, glaring at both of them.

Silence followed, nobody saying anything. That was until Rhodes said something, “Alright everyone, cool off,”

“I think she just needs some alone time,” he continued.

You didn’t say anything and only stormed up to your room, like an angry teenager. You slammed the door behind you and landed on your bed. And you took out the keys from your pocket. 

You stared at the small cluster of cold keys in your hand, their weight feeling heavy. Taking away keys from a group of super-spies was hard. But you were better than that.

You didn’t want to show them a vulnerable side of you, but you had to. If they saw you crumble, they'd feel like they had more power over you. But deep down, shit. You’re not any better than your captors. 

You shoved the keys under your pillow, attempting to calm yourself. Then the door unlocked, and a red-haired lady came in. 

“Hey honey, I’m Wanda.” she said, her hands in her pockets. “Please understand why we are doing this. We’re just trying to keep you safe.”

Her words fell on deaf ears and you didn’t respond.

Wanda studied you for a moment, her expression then softening. She seemed to be waiting for some kind of reaction from you but you didn’t give her any, you didn’t wanna tell her anything. All your feelings started to cluster up inside you, causing you to choke off any words you might have had. You just sat there instead, staring at the wall blankly.

"I know you’re upset," she continued, her voice gentle but firm. "But what’s happening here, it’s for your own good. You may not understand now, but soon, you will."

You clenched your fists tighter, the anger rising again. Safe? How could they call this safe? They had kidnapped you, trapped you in a god forsaken building, and now they’re feeding you lies?

You didn’t say anything, not because you didn’t have words, but because you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing your frustration.

Wanda took a step closer towards you. “Please… Just hear us out. We didn’t want to do this, but y’know… sometimes, we don’t have a choice. This world... it’s dangerous for people like you.”

You shot her a sharp look, not sure whether to scoff or to cry. "People like me? You mean normal people? Or just people who aren't part of whatever twisted thing you're all doing?"

Wanda sighed, her expression softening, but she didn’t back away. Instead she put her hand on your back but you smacked her hand away before it could even make contact. “It’s more complicated than that. You have no idea how important you are to us. If you get hurt, we’re gonna be hurt too.”

You stared at her, still silent, the weight of the keys under your pillow a reminder that this wasn’t over. You couldn’t back down now. You just needed to figure out how to get out, how to make them realize you didn’t need their so-called ‘protection’.

Wanda let out another quiet breath. "I know you’re angry. But we’re not your enemy. We’re just trying to do what’s best for you."

You finally looked up at her, your voice barely above a whisper, but full of defiance. "I don’t need your stupid protection. I just need to go home for goodness sake."

Wanda gave a small, almost apologetic smile. “I wish it were that simple.” Then she left the room. The door closed behind her with a click and you sat there on your bed.

They didn’t say a word or make any attempt to interact with you for the rest of the day. Instead, they simply came in occasionally to drop off food. 

That night, you carefully snuck out of your room, wary of the motion sensors scattered around.

"Where are you going?" a voice asked, breaking the silence of the night.

“The bathroom,” you said before quickly walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. You locked the door then rushed over to the window.

Your hands trembled as you reached into your pocket to find the keys. Holy shit. There are footsteps outside the door. You had to move fast.

With a sharp breath, you took the key in your hand and slid it into the keyhole. You turned it slowly, heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst out of your chest. The sound of the lock unlocking was louder than you expected but what could you do about it?

You opened the window, the cold air rushing in and brushing against your skin. Your eyes scanned the drop below. It was high. Too high for a safe landing but it was the only chance you had.

The footsteps echoed closer, just outside your door. Your pulse quickened. You didn’t have much time.

Without another thought, you climbed over the sill, sitting on it. You felt your body shaking as you stared down at the ground. You gripped the edge of the window, squeezing your eyes shut for just a moment to steady yourself. 

No turning back now.

You took a deep breath, squeezed your eyes shut, and jumped off.

For a while, you were falling in the air as if the earth had abandoned you. You felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins. It felt like the longest drop of your life, but you felt the wind against your skin, it was only increasing.

When you hit the ground, it was like a violent shock through your body. Pain exploded through your legs as you collapsed, but you forced yourself up immediately, ignoring the sting. You couldn’t stop. You had to escape.

Using your hands, you stumbled onto your feet with trembling knees, but you pushed forward. You started running without thinking, adrenaline powering you through the pain. Your lungs burned, but you didn’t care. You needed to get away. It was a matter of time until they came for you.

Behind you, you heard their screams and shouts. The deafening sound of their boots behind you, but you couldn’t stop. You wouldn’t stop.

Every step was fueled by the overwhelming need for freedom, for the hope of never seeing their faces again. You could feel their presence right behind you.

The road ahead was dark, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t going back. Not ever.

You kept running, your mind focused on one thing. Which was escaping.

Your feet hit the ground hard every step you took. Every step brought you farther from the hellhole you were trapped in, for a day or so. The cold air stung your lungs but you barely noticed, too focused on escaping to care. You couldn't afford to slow down, because you knew they could catch up at any second. You didn't know how far you were from them. They could be close. But at the same time they could all still be behind at the house. 

The night was full of the unknown. Every turn felt like a gamble. You darted through the woods, dodging the trees and rocks, your breathing starting to be ragged. The sound of your feet hitting the soil was quiet, but still loud enough to be heard.

The thought of them catching you and bringing you back made the pain in your legs feel like nothing. It was nothing compared to being a captive. You could feel the sweat trailing down your face, and dropping onto the dirt ground underneath you.

You were in your own world now, consumed by the need for freedom. You took a sharp turn and nearly slipped on the wet soil, but you managed to regain your balance and keep running.

The sounds of pursuit grew louder, closer. You could hear their voices, and though you didn’t dare look, you could feel their presence stalking you. The fear was back again, choking you, but you fought it down. You pushed your body harder, desperate to outrun them. You couldn’t let them catch you. Not again.

You turned left, and for a moment, you thought you might be safe. The path ahead was empty, just a stretch of empty nothingness leading to… god knows where. You could almost taste freedom, but it was still much too far away for you to be celebrating.

A shout came from behind you, sharp and commanding. It sent a fresh wave of panic through you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Your legs burned, your chest ached, but you kept running as if your life depended on it and it did.

The night seemed endless, but you refused to slow down. You had no idea where you were heading, but you couldn’t think about that now. You had to keep running. The fear of being caught was too much. The thought of them dragging you back to that place, locking you in again, was more terrifying than the darkness ahead.

The sounds of your pursuitors slowly became more distant, but you kept going, not daring to slow down. You didn't know how long you'd been running nor how much more you needed to but it didn’t fucking matter to you. It didn’t matter if it took minutes, hours, days. You just needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep pushing forward.

Eventually the adrenaline started to wear off and you finally let yourself stop to rest. You found a spot behind the trees, hidden away well enough to allow you to gasp for breath. Your heart was still racing, your mind still buzzing, but you were free.

That was proven temporary when you heard footsteps surrounding you. You perked up and observed your surroundings. The forest was way too dark for you to see anything, but you could hear, feel, their presence. Then…

“Oh my fucking goodness. Where the heck are they?” you heard a voice say.

“Relax. They couldn’t have gone too far.” someone else answered.

“Why are we doing this anyway? What’s so good about them?”

“They’re a criminal.” was the last thing you heard before everything turned black.

Taglist = @cjand10